


Moya Igrushka

by Zombie_Food



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types, Resident Evil: Resistance, resident evil 3 remake - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Branding, Chases, Choking, Drowning, Dry Humping, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fainting, Fear Play, Fight Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hands-free ejacuation, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Marking, Mind Manipulation, Mutual Masturbation, Name-Calling, Nicholai may have a soft spot, Overstimulation, Ownership, Painful Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Prostate Milking, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Size Difference, Size Kink, Skull Fucking, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strangulation, Threats of Violence, Torture, Trauma, Verbal Humiliation, gradual feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombie_Food/pseuds/Zombie_Food
Summary: A price can be put on just about anything. So when Nicholai takes up a contract  with one of Umbrella's leading researchers to make survivors fear and die, a quick and unexpected change of plan leaves him frazzled.With only one dark haired, petrified boy left desperately fighting to escape, he is the only existing subject to provide evidence to the blaring question: What if the virus responded more effectively to the arousal of pleasure as opposed to fear?
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Martin Sandwich, Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Martin Sandwich
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

A slight half smile pricked at the corner of Nicholai's lips as be watched the chaos unfold on the monitors around him. The cameras picked up every cry, every split decision made in panic and every drop of blood shed. The very things that no longer spurred remorse or ignited the remaining humanity within him. Not since he made a living out of expensive contracts made by wealthy organisations like Umbrella.

His victory was already unfolding. Two of the survivors had met a brutal end to the overpowering Nemesis, right before the remaining survivors’ eyes. This led to a series of impulsive and poorly made decisions. The brute of the team took off to the exit, cutting off and leaving behind the smaller, inferior boy who would otherwise slow him down. That is, until Nicholai's automated turrents gunned down the brute right before he could finalise his escape.

The exit has since closed and bolt locked, courtesy of its timer to make sure it is used only for its primary purpose which, under usual circumstances, would be importing cargo. The remaining dark haired survivor had completely lost himself to his fear (just as his contractor had requested, to “fear” and to “die”), and had scurried like a rat into the safest room he could find, prying the heavy metal door as far shut as it could go behind him.

An overbearing silence had shrouded over the facility since then. The boy had been in there a while, clearly having exhausted all options and unable to hack the pressure. Who could blame him, after watching his peers die and being abandoned by his final and most promising teammate. Nicholai wondered if the boy had heard the brute's final cries as he bled out, too.

The trill ring of an incoming call sounded in Nicholai’s earpiece. He leaned back in his computer chair, answering the call. He immediately recognised the smooth, sultry voice of Alex Wesker, the one and only who had so much money promised for him at the end of his troubles.

“Ma’am, you’re about ten minutes too early. I have done everything you asked, I’m just finishing off the final touches.”

“The subjects, are there any left?” Alex responded. There was a haste to her voice that made Nicholai quick to try to appease her. He switched one of the monitors to check in on the young boy in the safe room, the single camera in there getting a good view of him sat on the floor, shaking knees tucked up to his chest. The pistol trained on the door was shuddering under a frantic and desperate grip in an attempt to prevent any unwanted intruders. A pistol that Nicholai knew was empty, if not on its last bullets. 

Nicholai smiled and sunk further into his chair, basking in the satisfactory of victory and knowing Alex could hear it in his voice. “Three of the survivors experienced immense fear before their end, and I have one final one cowering like a child in terror. You couldn’t have chose a better man for the job.”

Silence on the other end of the line, and then the slight noise of background chatter. Nicholai was going to query what the problem was before Alex’s voice piped up again. 

“The adrenaline spike from fear is not sparking the virus within my subjects. Their deaths are wasted if the virus does not peak, there will be no continuation for them and no useful data for me. It would be all for nothing.”

Nicholai stammered, the authority in her voice diminishing any annoyance he would otherwise feel since he was following their contract by the letter. “What are you saying? You don’t want me to kill them? It might be a bit late for--"

“Our recent experiments in the lab have suggested that alternative means of adrenaline spikes could help fester the virus inside them; primal instincts and impulses such as lust and arousal. This test you have been carrying out has already been fruitless for me and, if we are going to be doing it the correct way, we need to be doing it now.”

Nicholai blinked for a moment, processing. “Our contract--"

“I _know_ what our contract states but this is of the utmost importance and if you cannot follow my orders then you can take your earnings and be done with it already, I can hire someone more competent to finish this!”

Her words pricked at Nicholai’s ears with their implications. Without missing a beat, he asked; “Hire?...You mean there would be more money in this for me?”

There was a pause before her highly anticipated response. “I would be willing to put a lot on the line for this remaining subject's potential.”

“...An additional sixty percent.”

Nicholai waited, his heart beating faster with the anticipation of money on the line. When her careful reply came that she would instead perhaps consider adding an additional forty five percent, Nicholai uttered “Done,” before cutting off the call and getting to his feet.

His eyes did a quick sweep over the room location on the camera before walking briskly into the corridor. He wasn’t entirely certain what the plan was exactly but this was far more effective than sitting in his chair back at the office. As he walked, he inwardly wished the gorgeous blonde with the short shorts that barely covered her ass hadn’t had her body blown to pieces by the rocket launcher on his bio weapon’s back. But money is money. 

Nicholai’s footing slowed as he finally approached the large metal door to quieten his footsteps. It was only slightly ajar from where the boy had given up forcing his muscles to pull at its sturdiness. Inside he could hear the sound of him still trying to steady his breathing to perhaps calm his heart rate. 

Nicholai called through the gap, “You know, --"

A sharp gasp. A gun shot that pierced the air and straight through the gap. Nicholai’s body recoiled away, cussing under his breath. Although he had clearly wasted a bullet from surprise, the prick had good aim...

“You are wasting your bullets, you know? I’m not here to kill you.”

Hesitant breathing. Then a shout back; “You’re the one behind the cameras!”

Nicholai sighed. Tormenting and teasing the survivors through the speakers around the facility was what made the job so fun. He began to manoeuvre himself slowly into sight through the crack of the door. “Alright, alright! Congratulations, you guessed it was--"

Another immediate gunshot had Nicholai dodge out of sight again, gritting his teeth from the ringing in his ears. And then the glorious empty clicking sound of a pistol trying to fire with an empty chamber. Nicholai waited for him to collect himself but instead there was a strangled grunt and then the slam of the heavy metal pistol bounced at the door frame just beside his head before sliding at Nicholai’s feet.

Nicholai scowled, then kicked the pistol across the corridor in frustration. Only then did he properly move himself into the gap of the door to step inside.

He saw the boy, utterly defeated, still sat at the space on the floor at the other end of the room, frantically grasping at his pockets. Aside from shelving, a table and a chest full of supplies, the room was fairly empty. Nicholai slowly stepped inside and, as he did, a small, puny switchblade erupted from the boy’s jean pocket. He held it in front of him, his shaky hands making the blade shimmer under the bright fluorescent lights.

“D-don't come any closer.”

Nicholai eyed him carefully, taking slow steps forward, despite what he was ordered. The boy’s glassy blue eyes began darting back and forth between the blade and the intruder.

“S-stop!” The boy shouted, scrabbling to his feet with weak legs and stumbling backwards in an attempt to maintain the distance between them.

Nicholai reached for a strap on his military trousers that held his large combat knife and, with a swiftness from years of experience, he flipped it out and spun it into his hand ready to engage. The action was done in the blink of an eye and, before the boy had a moment to react, the large silver blade with a thick serrated edge was already being sized up with his switchblade.

Nicholai smiled. “You really want to initiate a knife fight with _me_? Hm?” 

He watched the clear blue eyes battle between looking at him or his knife. Then thin lips pursed together in frustration.

“...I’m just supposed to let you kill me?” he said, although it was phrased more as a statement than a question. 

Nicholai shrugged. “You’re choice,” he replied as he gestured to his knife, “You’re forcing me to use this.”

“...B-but you killed the others.”

“I’m just fulfilling contracts. I don’t want to kill you, you can still walk out of this place. You want that, yes?”

The young boy shrugged, face deceiving him by showing the inner turmoil it took to hesitantly lower his blade. When Nicholai raised his eyebrows and signalled him to drop it, he held the blade still over his abdomen.

“If I’m just a contract, why aren’t I dead?”

Nicholai swiftly dodged the question. “What’s your name, kid? Don’t you have a family you want to get back to?”

As the boy answered, Nicholai carefully took a pace forward. Then another.

“...I-I’m Martin.”

“Martin what?” Another pace forward.

Martin’s eyes were cast down, fumbling over his words and not properly answering him as though he has battling with his thoughts. So instead he glanced up and caught Nicholai mid-step, quickly realising the danger he was in and lifting his switchblade back up to defend himself.

Nicholai lunged the final distance between them before Martin had time to swing and spun him around with his arm twisted behind his back, pressing him firmly and harshly against the wall of the small room. Martin hissed through his teeth as his face was crushed against the wall under Nicholai’s strength, a shooting pain travelling up his arm as a result of the hold. He clung with all his might to his only weapon, but then Nicholai squeezed his wrist. Martin cried out and the metal clang of his switchblade bounced on the ground beneath him. There was a scraping noise as Nicholai kicked it beneath the nearby table.

“You really ought to be compliant.” Nicholai muttered next to his ear, before pressing his arm further up his back. Martin screamed then, and his free hand clutched desperately at the hand pressing him against the wall, blindly. He froze his ministrations when he felt the sharp edge of the combat knife he was still holding. Nicholai noticed and smiled. “Are you going to be good?”

When there wasn’t an immediate response, Nicholai moved the knife so it rested of Martin’s shoulder, just in front of his face. A shrill gasp, and then; “Yes _. Yes, yes._ Yes, I will, _please_.”

On top of the begging, the frail body resisting so desperately and yet being so pliant under Nicholai’s bulky strength made something stir in Nicholai’s gut. As much as he wasn’t into shit like this, he couldn’t help but feel like he was forcing himself on a woman. Nicholai tried to mentally reel himself in a little. The aim of this was to have Martin enjoy this. But _God_ , was he making it difficult. 

Nicholai released his arm and it immediately scrambled out of reach. Martin tried to turn himself back around and made it half way before bumping into Nicholai’s body and being forced back into the wall. Despite the muscle pain in his arm, Martin elbowed and pushed at him to spread their bodies further apart until a hand snaked its way into his hair and latched onto the back of his head, forcing it back and exposing his pale neck. The black locks were soft as the loose curls tangled around Nicholai’s fingers.

Martin cried out and winced, the knife edge now pressed loosely under his chin. Tears built up at the corners of his eyes and overflowed. The adrenaline of the small battles with the boy and the sounds he was making elevated the stirring in Nicholai’s gut. He hadn’t planned this far but the urges he felt lined up with the motives. He leaned in and caught a salty tear under his tongue, then captured his lips in a messy, unwarranted kiss.

Martin’s eyes darted open in surprise and disbelief as soon as it started, suddenly realising the intentions of his oppressor. As Nicholai sucked and lapped at his lips, Martin’s breathing through his nose became quick and shallow. He pressed closed fists against Nicholai’s chest, desperately trying to end the endeavour. Protests and whimpers escaped muffled between where they were connected. The whole ordeal made Nicholai's cock twitch in his pants.

Nicholai broke away and stepped back. He didn’t know how he had expected Martin to respond, but what he got was a complete lack of response. Martin was frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. His wide eyes were like saucers as they looked anywhere at anything other than him. His hair and shirt were dishevelled, lips red and swollen as they parted in time with his shallow panting. 

In the sudden drawn out silence, Nicholai ordered in a heavy voice; “Take your clothes off.”

Nicholai was beginning to see the beads of sweat forming at Martin’s temple and the red flush that was spreading over his cheeks. He would not look at him, simply stayed frozen with his body half turned and hunched slightly as though to cower and hide from Nicholai’s gaze. Nicholai bounced his blade in his palm, causing the blue eyes to finally glance at him. He could read the disbelief and misery in his eyes like a book. Perhaps he needed a little more encouragement. 

“Its your choice whether you walk out of here with your clothes on. Or leave here with shreds of them... _and_ in a wheelchair.”

The last comment had Martin squirming. He was murmuring under his breath and Nicholai could just barely pick up the sound, “please, _please_...Don’t do this, please.”

“I need to be paid,” Nicholai shrugged. Then, more firmly. “Take them off.”

Martin began mumbling something along the lines of why someone would pay him for this, but his words became lost when his eyes drifted over the blade again. He shuffled uncomfortably some more, pressing his back harder into the wall as though he could disappear into it.

Nicholai lost his patience. He stepped closer again and clasped together Martin’s hands that had lifted up to defend himself. He pinned them on the wall above his head and the knife snaked under his white tee shirt. Martin grunted and struggled until the knife reached up to his chest and Nicholai made sure he felt the coolness of the blade to startle the warm skin beneath it. Martin gasped and his struggles stopped entirely.

Nicholai chuckled. “If you wiggle, you’re going to get yourself cut!” With that, he pressed the blade tip against the neckline of the fabric, running the long streak all the way down to the hem of his top where it split in two, exposing his thin frame beneath. His pale, hairless chest rose and fell fast in time with his pitiful breathing. 

Nicholai released his hands so that he could force the shrugging of the tee shirt and over shirt off of his shoulders. It seemed as though the shock of what was happening paired up with the threat of the knife was enough to have Martin let Nicholai do this with little resistance. His shaking hands rested on Nicholai’s chest. The contrast between his struggling and allowing Nicholai to do as he pleased made Nicholai grasp his chin tightly. He kissed him hard again, this time nudging his legs apart with his knee and pressing against the space between them.

A spark of delight sped through Nicholai when a stifled moan erupted into his kiss. He rewarded Martin by grinding harder into the space between his clothed thighs, carefully placing the knife back into its holster on his trouser leg and using his freed hand to clutch at a newly exposed hip and squeezing. Another muffled groan sounded between them.

Nicholai finally broke away once more, smiling mischievously at the noticeable bulge now in Martin’s trousers from the attention received. Even if the pleasure was unwanted, the kid was young and receptive to it. Finally he was allowing Nicholai to fulfil his contract some.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying this too, at least,” he teased, and revelled at the deep red shade that had now travelled down to Martin’s neck, tarnishing the pale white skin there. He pressed his teeth against where it blushed, sinking them in just to hear the cry and watch the shudder that erupted as a result. Small red streaks imprinted on where he had marked him and this made his cock stir in arousal. Martin must have noticed the hardness too as his head quickly snapped down in realisation and the weak shoving started again. Nicholai pushed back against him, reaching between them and fumbling with the zip and button of Martin’s denim trousers.

“ _Please_ don’t, this is weird, _please_.” Martin was mumbling, Nicholai wasn’t too sure as he had tuned the protests out at this point. As the trousers came loose and Nicholai began moving his boxers beneath, Martin's hands had found his wrists, tugging. Nicholai glanced up at him but his eyes were pressed tightly closed and chin turned away. He used the opportunity to assault his freshly exposed chest, licking and sucking under his collarbone. Martin gasped and clutched at his shoulders to try and pry him away until one of Nicholai’s fingers swept over a nipple.

“A-ahh! _No,_ no, don’t! It’s weird, it feels weird.”

The fingers tweaked and squeezed until Martin was a sobbing, shivering mess and was barely keeping himself upright due to his weak, wobbling knees. Nicholai noticed and gently lifted him just under his thighs to manoeuvre him to the table and rested his ass on the side edge.

Martin’s breathing was coming out broken and shaky. Nicholai wasn’t sure if his struggling hands were because he still didn’t want it, or simply from the sensitivity he had to his touches. By the time he had even moved his attention to his member, it was already erect and pressed against the fabric of his boxers.

Nicholai had never been interested in men. There can be a price tag on anything and he would do it. But there was something about how easily he could make the youth melt into his touches, the body betraying how badly his sweet voice asked him to stop. It made him buck his hips and bite his lip. It was just for the money, that’s all.

Nicholai pulled Martin free from his boxers and gave it an experimental tug. The jerk of the small body under him fuelled the fire deep in his abdomen, making his own cock strain against the restraints of his trousers. He perched Martin into more of a sitting position on the table and reached around to pull his white trainers off his feet and toss them elsewhere. When he looked up to meet Martin’s eyes, they were glazed and lustful, albeit a little wide and troubled. 

Nicholai succumbed and hastily undid his own military vest, dropping it to the ground to lift his white shirt over his head. He had accumulated a hot sweat during his assault on the young boy and it felt so good to let the cold air touch his skin.

And Martin couldn’t have been more inconspicuous in the way his eyes lingered on the newly exposed flesh and followed the thin trail of white hair between his lower pecs and down his navel. The staring made Nicholai exhale deeply, breath thick with lust, as he worked to free his own arousal. As he did, Martin squirmed further up the table, mumbling protests, but Nicholai swiftly pulled his ankles so that his body merely slid back towards him.

A choked sound escaped the youth when his member was freed and lined up with his own. It was almost laughable the contrast in length and girth between them and the lack of attention to Nicholai’s made it look red and angry. He clutched them together and slowly pulled downwards until Martin’s uncut foreskin pulled all the way back and exposed the head. Martin’s hands were clutching tightly at the side of the table, knuckles white.

“Hah! Mm, please...” he uttered, hips trembling. Nicholai half expected a ‘no' or ‘stop', but it didn’t come. He spat a mouthful of saliva into his palm and began jerking their cocks together at a brisk pace.

Martin’s moans became more frequent then. His thighs squeezed Nicholai’s sides and he could see where his toes where curling inside his socks. He reached up with another hand and continued teasing at a nipple. 

The noises made him want to cum already. The steady panting, the mewling when he slows down, the gasp when he speed up again. It was like fucking a woman. And he couldn't help but want to fuck him _bad_. 

Nicholai moved his head into the crack of Martin’s neck, breathing in the musty scent of sweat and slight mild sweetness of cheap aftershave. His member swelled and precum oozed from the head, quickly lathering over his fingers when it was caught up in the jerking motion. Martin must have seen it, because his voice rose momentarily, before the muffled sound of his lips pursing together stifled any further noises. 

When his voice had quieted to a dull panting, Nicholai checked in by quickly scanning his face. Martin’s eyes were darting around the room behind Nicholai, presumably at the slightly ajar door in which Nicholai had came in. When their eyes briefly met and Martin realised he had been caught calculating possible escape measures, he cast his eyes away, hands clawing at Nicholai’s shoulders having dislodging themselves from the table. 

Nicholai applied more pressure and speed to his movements between them in response and smiled evilly when Martin threw his head back, his voice returning as he mewled louder and more feverishly than before. His grasping hands became frantic.

“ _No, no, no_ , stop it, _stop_ it!” he cried.

Nicholai felt a pulse in his palm and a quivering through the legs that encased him. “You’re close, aren’t you? You gonna' cum?”

Instead of offering any kind of answer, Martin grunted as he lifted a leg up and pistoned his foot into Nicholai’s stomach. Despite the weakness in his muscles from the onslaught of pleasure, the angle just under his ribs was enough to knock the wind from Nicholai and have him stagger backwards - just enough for Martin to leap to his feet. Grasping his loose clothing back over his dignity seemed futile as it pressed meekly over his barely concealed crotch. The suddenness of the escape had his feet trip over themselves before recallibrating and shuffling to the door. 

There was an animalistic growl and hiss of pain behind him. “You FUCKER.”

The absence of warmth from another body pressed on his made the chill of the air erupt goose bumps on the flesh of his bare chest. He perhaps made only a few paces away before the anticipated heavy bootfalls echoed close behind and Nicholai’s long arm closed the small distance he had mustered. A cry of anguish left him when a heavy hand had lodged onto the back of his skull, roughly and painfully pulling at the hair there and forcing his whole body to recoil back into the arms of his aggressor. 

“You want to be a little _bitch_ about it?” Nicholai hissed next to his ear, “I can make this _so_ much harder for you.”

Martin struggled like a fish out of water. “Get the hell away from me!” he spat. 

Nicholai grit his teeth. “Fine.”

Nicholai almost lost sight of his contract when the rage made his body move on its own. His fist connected with Martin’s stomach and, before Martin could take a desperate inhale, his body was shoved by his shoulders across the room like a doll. Nicholai heard the dull thud of his back colliding into the table. His body shrunk to the table legs, gasping and spluttering. His naked skin was already forming a purplish hue where the table had slammed into his lower back. 

Nicholai composed himself a moment, taking a steady breath to clear his head. He could still hear Martin from across the room, grunting as he attempted to move himself upright. Nicholai was very hot headed and wasn’t acting in the best interest of his contract. He was inwardly aware that he was getting caught up in the frustration of the boy not wanting what he needed to deliver and Nicholai couldn’t help but get rough with the feeble boy as he tried to resist him.

Nicholai’s eyes closed and he took one final slow exhale. When he opened them and they drifted to Martin, the youth was alert, panicked, eyes pleading as his mouth laid agape from panting. When Nicholai stepped closer, his body jerked, impulsively scooting itself further under the table.

Nicholai’s raised his hands, a soothing gesture. “Now, now. Let’s think logically about this.”

It seemed as though Martin forcibly slowed his breathing, attentive to Nicholai’s voice. He had pulled his legs close to his body, shielding himself as he spoke.

“This is just following orders. You comply, you get out of here. I mean, come on. You really think you can overpower _me_?”

When Martin regarded him with no answer, Nicholai added; “Like your friends did?”

There was the response Nicholai was looking for. The twitch of discomfort, the squirm of pushing his weight from one thigh to another. Nicholai stepped closer.

Martin’s hands had disappeared behind him. _Don’t_ , Nicholai could hear him uttering but he ignored him, tired of negotiating, sick of time wasted on words. If it meant strapping the kid to the damn shelf and milking him dry to experience the ecstasy the virus so badly craved, then so be it. He needed to he done with it, already.

He approached and reached an out spread hand to him. In that moment, the panic in Martin’s facial features peaked and his hand reappeared from behind him. The glint of light catching metal, the darting speed of purpose driving the motion should have made Nicholai anticipate it before his eyes caught up with what was going to happen.

Pain erupted in his left calf as the switchblade, which had previously been discarded under the table, drove into him with a soft splat. Nicholai saw red as Martin scrambled out of sight and to the door. Instead of screaming at the unexpected onset of pain, Nicholai bit down painfully against his bottom lip, breathing harsh and loud through his nostrils.

“You...” Nicholai lowered himself and clutched at the switchblade handle protruding from his leg before he pulled in one swift motion allowing it to dislodge and tumble onto the floor, “Slithery little _whore_.”

When Nicholai turned, Martin had already darted through the gap in the door and Nicholai could hear his heavy breathing and the soft foot falls of socked feet echoing down the hallway.

“Alright,” Nicholai muttered, not caring whether Martin could hear him or not. He hoped the little shit could. The click of the clasp holding his military knife filled the silence of the room once more. “You want to play dirty?...I can play dirty.”

Knife in hand, he strode out of the room. Martin was at the bottom of the corridor, hastily tugging at a door handle. When he glanced behind him and saw the knife in Nicholai’s hand, a panicked gasp escaped him and he stumbled into the next room. Nicholai felt a sensation alike to butterflies in the pit of his stomach at the pure fear he saw in Martin’s wide eyes. 

Nicholai ignored the dull throb of pain in his calf as he approached the door and booted it open with his foot. The door squeaked loudly on its hinges before banging into the wall behind it, enough to leave a dent. After a quick scan of the room, he moved to the next door briskly.

This time, as he turned the handle and pushed, the door barely budged and there was a muted grunt behind it. A smile tugged at Nicholai’s lips. He took a step back before thrusting his shoulder hard against the surface.

There was a loud rattle as the door struggled between the weight of Nicholai’s body and the pressure of Martin trying to block the door. Nicholai repeated the action and was rewarded with a strained cry and a small gap in the doorway. 

“Martin...” Nicholai coaxed, “Open up and maybe I won’t kill you when I’m done fucking you.”

Nicholai could hear Martin vocalise a thick shudder. When he nudged the door again, it barely moved against the pressure behind it.

“Go fuck yourself!” 

Nicholai’s smile widened further. The boy was getting very bold. Nicholai removed himself from the door and created a distance between it. He then charged it and the thud of his boot against the thick wood sent splinters flying.

There was a frazzled cry as the door flew open and Martin’s body was sent ricochetting backwards, collapsing in a heap on the floor. Nicholai stood in the doorway, letting the feeling flourish in his stomach some more and his palm growing sweaty against the knife handle as he simply watched Martin scrabble to his feet and frantically open the following door. He clearly had no idea where he was going, nor any feasible plans to offer himself an advantage. The poor boy was acting out of sheer panic and it was oh so fun to watch unfold. 

Nicholai’s steps had become tauntingly slow, allowing Martin to desperately stumble up the metal stairs in the next room. In the dim light here, Nicholai could see the bruising on Martin’s lower back had bloomed darker now and it was accompanied by minor scratches and dirt where he had fallen backwards and failed to properly cushion the fall. At some point after escaping, he had managed to button his denim trousers back around his hips which was a shame. Nicholai would have thoroughly enjoyed the show of the boy getting tangled and tripping over his own dishevelled clothing. 

Martin had slammed another door at the top of the stairs when Nicholai had gained on him. Nicholai softly tapped at it with his knuckles. And then the contrasting boot slammed behind it. The door budged slightly, but Nicholai knew by the absence of sound that the boy wasn’t behind the door restraining it this time. He slammed his body into it again and frustration twisted his facial features as he switched his blade into his other hand and reached into the slightly larger gap. A thin metal pole had been wedged under the handle of the other side. He wrapped his fingers around it and tugged hard, an angry grunt ripping from his body. The pole dislodged and made a loud clank as he dropped it.

The door slowly drew open. Nicholai scanned quickly, taking in the messy interior of a room undergoing installations or building works. It was littered with construction tools, a thick heavy sheet curtain in the middle of the room, large wooden planks and a heavy smell of cut wood and paint filling his nose. There were no other doors. 

Nicholai smiled. 

He purposefully made sure his heavy duty boots were slow and thunderous in the deafening silence of the room. He casually tossed his knife back and forth between his palms. As he circled around, dust collected on the surface of his footwear where he disturbed their place on the floor. After he had completed the circuit of the room, he carefully approached the thick sheet curtain. 

The adrenaline combined with the fluttering in his gut peaked as he clutched the edge. It created a sheer feeling of ecstasy that ran thick through his veins making him feel happy and angry, all at once. The anticipation of finally finding an outlet for this made his cock pulse and begin to harden.

With a flourish, the tear of the curtain being ripped away exposed Martin who was curled against a large wooden supply box inside. He was visibly defeated, eyes beading with tears and lip trembling. Before Nicholai could do or say anything, Martin was already raising his hands and carefully moving into an upright sitting position.

“ _Please, please, please_ ,” he was saying, “I-I get it. I’ll do what you want. Th-they are paying you t-to...” his shrill voice trailed off as he began to hesitantly crawl to where Nicholai stood, blade in hand and glaring at him with rage. Martin eyed the blade carefully, petrified but forcing his will to move closer as he spoke; “I-I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want...W-what _they_ want. Please don’t...hurt me.”

Nicholai’s jaw was clenched rigid, fingers throbbing from the tightness of his grip on the blade. Martin had crawled to his feet, hands reluctant and shaky as they ever so slowly touched just above his knee. 

When Nicholai said nothing, Martin’s nervous rambling continued; quieter, barely a whisper as his ill coordinated fingers began working at Nicholai’s loosely assembled belt. Nicholai couldn’t find the motivation to move, be it anger that made his muscles rigid or simply curiosity. Nonetheless, Martin had soon worked his almost fully erect member from his trousers. 

Murmured pleas and begging continued right up until the point Martin had intently pushed the head of his cock into his warm, wet mouth and stifled the final words from his lips. Nicholai felt the thick throb as it immediately swelled to full hardness. Even as half the shaft began disappearing into his mouth, Nicholai felt he could almost still hear the pleas from the way the boy’s eyes were staring up at him. 

More flesh began to be sheathed, all in one movement. Inevitably, the boy’s face soon scrunched up and he pulled back as quickly as he had begun, coughing and clutching his neck where the head had instigated his gag reflex. His obvious inexperience being blown was laughable, but surprisingly he was quick to taking a deep breath and latching on for a second attempt, eyes trying to stay open and desperately seeking a reaction. Approval, acknowledgment, verbal agreement to his proposals, something.

Nicholai released a slow exhale as Martin managed to swallow a little further than before and that made Martin’s eyelids flutter closed and work lathering his member with saliva. His nostrils flared with the force it took to supply his fear driven body with oxygen.

The contract buzzed at the back of Nicholai’s mind, behind the arousal and anger. His voice when he ordered him was heavy and gruff. “Touch yourself.”

Martin’s lips popped off the head and a string of saliva dribbled onto the ground. “Y-yes,” he complied and Nicholai watched him intently as his other hand began thumbling at the hem of his trousers, pulling out his mostly flaccid member. When his tongue began to touch against the thin string of nerves beneath the head, his hand started jerking softly between his thighs. In a few moments, it began to swell to fully erect from the stimulation, clearly receptive to it from the denial it had to cum earlier. 

Nicholai finally moved the knife in his hand and rested it on Martin’s shoulder. The blow job skidded to an immediate halt as Martin’s mouth busied itself talking instead of sucking.

“No, no, I’ll do anything – don’t hurt me—”

“Faster.”

His cock was engulfed once more, the tip of Martin’s nose pressing into the short mess of pubic hair atop his shaft. Martin’s heart was clearly racing, forcing adrenaline through his veins with how he was trying desperately to breathe and suck all at once. The strain of it made him wince and moan while his mouth was full, sending subtle vibrations down Nicholai’s shaft.

The renewed vigor and speed made Nicholai roll his head back and close his eyes. He basked in the pleasure only for a moment before rolling his head forward again, realising most of the pleasure derived from watching Martin miserably lap at his cock. After some time, he used his free hand to grasp the back of Martin’s skull and pushed.

Nicholai groaned when he felt the tip grind against the back of Martin's throat, right before it spasmed tightly and the space squeezed around him. Martin’s hands had stopped touching himself and were frantically beating at his thighs, trying to break free. He watched as his adam’s apple lifted up, then down, and then was forcibly lodged mid way. Nicholai held him there a moment longer before releasing him, a feeling of dominance overwhelming him when Martin threw himself back, gagging and spluttering as a puddle of saliva was gaining on the cold floor. Tears joined the thick trail of saliva that ran down his face.

When Martin gazed up at him, eyes glassy and guilty as though he had done something undesirable, Nicholai finally let a small smirk grace his face. “Good boy,” he said. “Stand up.”

Martin obediently scrambled to his feet. Nicholai tightly gripped his elbow and directed him to the large wooden box behind him. It stood about as tall as Martin’s hips. He pressed his palm over Martin’s upper back and forced him to arch so his body was hunched over it, elbows perched on the surface. Martin said nothing, but his panicked breathing got faster, louder and shakier. Nicholai carefully sheathed his blade back into its place on his leg guard and made sure his eyes caught Martin’s as he did; conveying a silent, deadly warning. Only then did he curl his body over his, pressing his cock against the his clothed ass and running his hands up the skin on his sides. The flesh of Martin’s upper body was littered with goose bumps and his legs shivered and wobbled uncontrollably as Nicholai firmly nudged them apart.

“D-don't hurt me,” Martin began chanting again. 

“I want to _ruin_ you,” Nicholai purred, sucking lightly on his ear and making the body under him shudder. 

“I did everything you said, I’ll _do_ everything you say,” Martin’s pleas continued and Nicholai began pressing kisses down his spine, past the bruising, past his lower back. The trousers began to hitch down past his hips. “Y-you don’t have to hurt me, I’ll give you anything you want – _Ah!_ ” 

Nicholai’s lips were pressed against the cleft of his ass, palms of his hands lightly kneading his cheeks before separating them. Martin quickly cowered from his place on the box and tried to turn around before Nicholai was on him again, pinning his forearms back onto the top of the box.

“Don’t. Move.” 

Martin winced as Nicholai began sweeping kisses back down again, this time keeping his upper body pressed against the box with all his might. Nicholai crouched lower, tugging Martin’s trousers from around his ankles as Martin reluctantly stepped out of them. The fabric caught one of his socks on the way off, discarding that as well as it lay piled on the floor. 

From down here, Nicholai could still faintly hear Martin begging for it not to hurt under his breath. Nicholai couldn’t tell if it was cute or just outright annoying, but the thought that Martin knew this act coupled with pain regardless of how you did it made Nicholai palm at his dick impatiently as he gently bit Martin’s ass cheek. Martin mewled and his feet readjusted from under him. 

Nicholai pressed his index finger into his mouth, making sure a thick sheen of wet coating glistened off it when it remerged. He aligned it with Martin’s hole, waiting for Martin’s jolt of surprise to pass before circling the entrance and stimulating the nerves there. 

The hole was tight and, even when Nicholai pushed gently, it did not let up for his slick fingertip at all. He stopped absent mindedly touching himself and moved to give Martin’s member some attention instead.

As soon as his hand had reached around and brushed on his balls, Martin gasped and, surprisingly, Nicholai felt the tip of his finger loosely penetrate him from behind. The muscle tightened hard around his finger again immediately after, discomfort making his legs squirm.

“You need to relax,” Nicholai said. “...Or it will hurt.”

He heard a steadying breath above him and his finger sunk in an inch further. His other hand had by now found a slow rhythm of stroking Martin’s shaft. Just enough to have him bucking into his palm unconsciously. 

Nicholai had sunk his finger down only to the second knuckle. He curled it and prodded it in different directions, experimentally. In the past, he had women melting by now. If only he could navigate the same way...

As his fingers curled downwards, Martin’s legs spasmed and his back arched dramatically, displaying a perfect view of his ass protruding from his position against the wooden box. The finger was not deep, but it didn’t seem to matter as the gentle scrape of his fingertip against the sensitive prostate appeared to be doing the trick. When he brushed it again, and then again, the cock in his hand pulsed and throbbed and the dirtiest moan echoed loud around the room. The more Nicholai targeted the nerve endings there, the more Martin’s legs shook and his entrance loosened to take more of him inside. In response, Nicholai nudged a middle fingertip in alongside it.

“Stop, _stop_ , it’s n-no good! I-I'm gonna’--!” 

Nicholai pulled out his finger and let go of his dick all at once and the boy bucked and cried out. His hips desperately humped into the air twice and his cock spurted streaks of cum; once, twice, three times, four times, thick streams down the side of the wooden box with no hands on him at all.

Nicholai gaped, curious, at the body which was clinging desperately onto the sides of the box to stay upright. The poor kid clearly didn’t get much action since he came so quickly (and hands-free for that matter). It was almost shameful, if not abnormally arousing. 

His mind drifted to the contract, the immense pleasure he needed to feel. He couldn’t see any effects of the virus yet, at least not visibly... Perhaps that alone didn’t cut it.

Experimentally, Nicholai grabbed his dick, firmer this time, and jerked faster and harder. Martin’s head snapped back and he began shouting.

“Ah! No! Too much! Please stop, please please _please_!”

Nicholai released him and the member bounced free from his palm, standing half erect just under his belly button. Already more precum oozed out the head until it weeped onto the floor. Nicholai had to admit he was impressed. The stamina on this kid with how much he had just released...

When Nicholai straightened back up, Martin was gazing over his shoulder at him, eyes half lidded and pupils wide against his pale blue irises. Nicholai slid his arms on either side of Martin, resting over where his lay against the box. With his body pressed against his back, he placed his chin on his shoulder. Martin exhaled slowly when Nicholai’s fingers drifted over the palms of his hands, tender and gentle.

There was a pleasant tingle radiating over his body as Nicholai watched Martin’s teeth press into his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure whether the kid was doing it intentionally, but Nicholai was overwhelmed with the need to bite at the lip himself. He leaned closer and the tingle escalated to a mild buzz when Martin’s neck craned sideways to give him access and allow him to capture his lips. 

Their breaths tangled in the intimacy and soon Nicholai’s hands had encased Martin’s and the boy was moaning pleasantly as Nicholai’s tongue teased at the insides of his cheeks. When Nicholai’s front teeth nipped hard on Martin’s plump bottom lip lustfully, Martin yelped and his left leg jerked upwards from below them, foot lightly colliding with Nicholai’s shin. 

Right where Martin had shoved the blade into him earlier. Nicholai hissed and his muscles instinctively tensed hard around Martin’s hands, squeezing painfully around him and fingernails digging into his soft palms.

Martin gasped, eyebrows furrowing. _“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”_ He whispered, and then; “I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_!”

Nicholai’s bare chest rose slowly with the deep, steady breath he took as he bit his lip in pain. The tendrils of frustration and anger where beginning to wrap themselves around him again. He felt a slight wetness drip over his lip and quickly retracted the pressure of his teeth. He finally released his harsh grip on one of Martin’s hands and rubbed his wrist over his chin to inspect the red smear of blood that appeared. 

“It was an accident,” came Martin’s voice, “I didn’t mean to—Argh!!’

Nicholai had pressed hard against Martin’s back so that his upper body smashed into the top of the sturdy box. Nicholai grabbed where his hip bones stood out against his flesh and forced his ass higher into the air. He could hear Martin beginning to sniffle and whimper but he made no move to stop him. It was a wise choice.

Nicholai lined himself with the pink hole, the saliva from his finger and Martin’s saliva from his blow job making his dick glide wetly against the entrance. He grit his teeth as he began pushing in the head, the tightness resisting momentarily before just barely allowing entry. He anticipated the strangled scream from Martin as his thickness began to penetrate him and, when it came, it only made his cock twitch as it sunk midway into him.

“It hurts, it hurts!” Martin was crying, “ _Pleaaase_ , it _hurts_!”

“Shhhh...” Nicholai uttered as he almost sheathed himself three quarters of the way. When it wouldn’t push in much further, he pulled out almost fully and then thrust in firmer and deeper.

There was a staggered gasp and a drawn out cry and Nicholai saw the boy’s hands were squeezing at the other end of the box edge desperately, arms shaking with the strain of doing so. _Ow, ow,_ he was muttering between whimpers as Nicholai began to find a slow, steady rhythm. The warmth and tightness around him made his anger melt and dissipate into a unbearable feeling of arousal. His hands began exploring the thin, trembling frame in front of him; stroking the bruised skin on his lower back, ghosting over his ribs to trigger his muscle's tickle reflex before he finally lodged one into his tangled hair and the other squeezed at an ass cheek. 

As he drove in and pushed Martin forward, he pulled at his black locks to move his body back and meet him halfway, a wet smacking of flesh sounding between them. The grip on his scalp forced Martin’s neck to strain backwards, his defeated face exposed for Nicholai’s pleasure. 

“You never did-" Nicholai drove in harder, deeper, making the boy mewl,“- apologise for FUCKING stabbing me.”

When Martin didn’t answer him and merely sniffled quietly, eyes squeezed shut, Nicholai scowled. He tugged hard at his hair until his upper body lifted up completely and he was almost in a standing position, naked body meshed firmly against his. 

“Are you _deaf_?!” Nicholai barked next to his ear, “Or did you faint cause' it feels so **_good_**?”

Martin’s voice wobbled and broke as he spoke; “I'm sorry, I’m sorry I stabbed you!” 

When Martin’s hands scrambled and clawed at where Nicholai was pulling painfully on his scalp, Nicholai smacked them away with his other hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” 

“I-I-I'm sor-"

“Shut the fuck up.” 

His fingers released his hair, but the sigh of relief he heard was cut short when both hands locked over his throat to hold his body in place as he drove into him. Under his fingertips he could feel the firm lump dip and the vibrations of words stuck at his vocal cords. When the arousal bubbled up in his groin, the fleeting memory of his contract slipped by. He slowed the pace abruptly and angled his member with more precision where he had sent the boy to oblivion earlier. 

Even with his grip around his neck constricting the sounds escaping, Nicholai still heard the surprised moan that just barely passed his lips. When he pressed in with a harder, deeper thrust, pleasure was deceiving Martin's facial features with the arch of the eyebrows, the clouding in his eyes. By the time Nicholai picked back up on the brisk pace but with an intense precision, Martin’s fingers had begun clawing at his hold around his throat.

With the contract more apparent in his mind this time, Nicholai let him go as opposed to punishing him. Martin’s body flopped backwards lifelessly, his head falling back onto Nicholai’s shoulder. He gasped frantically for breath, muttering further apologies where he could, as though he too expected punishment. Instead, Nicholai nuzzled into the crook of his neck and sucked at the skin there, leaving small purple oblong shapes down the thin skin.

The pace of his fucking, the angle he had adjusted to and the attention to his neck was clearly making the boy react in stark contrast to before. Nicholai could feel his muscles tighten and contract around his member and he groaned at the feeling. His hands reached around Martin, one finding a nipple and the other grabbing his dick.

The otherwise limp body suddenly jutted to life and Martin propped his head up, glancing at the onslaught he was receiving as though in disbelief. Before long, his eyes screwed closed again, lips pursed in a thin line as his head shook desperately back and fourth. 

_“No, no, ah!_ ” 

If the pulsing of the flesh in his hand and tightening of his inner muscles wasn’t enough of an indication to how close he was, his mouth dropping open and blissfully salivating on himself certainly was. The sight alone was enough to push Nicholai over the edge.

“You gonna’ cum?” he whispered, cheek pressed against Martin’s deeply blushed one.

“ _Mmm_ \--!” was all he had managed to muster out of him in response. He felt more than saw the short, fast spurts of cum that flew onto Martin’s chest and stomach before collecting around Nicholai’s fist which worked him through it. His eyes stayed locked on the boy’s face as he came, watched as his cry of ecstasy seemed to physically rip from his body, face contorting and pupils dilating to radiate a thick, full blackness behind his wet lashes. Nicholai groaned hard as he spilled his seed into him, the inner muscles spasming around him and working out every drop. 

Nicholai slumped forward and Martin’s body collapsed onto the box's surface. As Nicholai tried to regulate his breathing, he curiously turned the boy’s head to check up on him. His eyes were closed and his mouth draped open. He was completely out. 

Before Nicholai could properly examine the damage, the trilling of his ear piece jolted him back to reality. He made quick work of tucking himself in his pants and carefully propped the boy onto the box more fully so that he didn’t slump onto the floor. Only then did he answer the call, pacing the room to occupy himself.

“...Yes?”

“The subject,” came Alex Wesker's voice, “where is he?”

Nicholai glanced over his shoulder, at the boy in a heap on the box and a small puddle of saliva collecting under his mouth.

“...He's unconscious.” Nicholai mumbled, before adding; “What would you have me do with him?”

There was an excitement that lifted her response to a slight crescendo. “My instruments show that the virus has showed a dramatic peak in the last thirty minutes. He is the ultimate host! Now is the perfect time to escort him to a secure headquarters in the lab before he awakens...” 

As Alex rambled, Nicholai approached the lifeless body and began bracing the flimsy arms over his shoulder to carry him. When the flood of sciencey jargon had finished flowing through the receiver, he finally asked the important question that was blaring in his mind.

“So this virus...” he muttered, throwing the boy over his back in a loose fireman carry, “it's not contagious, is it...?”

“Not through physical contact,” Alex responded, and Nicholai sighed in relief. “However, more direct contact such as blood ingestion or sexual transmission would likely spread the virus.”

Nicholai froze. 

“You said he needed to feel pleasure.” 

“Yes, arousal _is_ the component I needed the subject to experience, but touching him alone would not be enough to harbour the virus to a new subject. _Honestly_ , you wouldn’t be stupid enough to fully initiate intercourse with the infected, would you...?”

...

“Shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicholai returns a second time to the facility and its twisted experiments. Only this time it is to clean up the mess he made from his previous contract. That is, until he finds a familiar face that exposes him to the dangers of falling into a vicous circle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess we all want to know the fate of Nicholai in the last chapter. I may have also been extra mean to Martin in this chapter. You have been warned.

Nicholai’s car hummed silently as it accelerated through the large front gates of the facility car park; a series of security checks involving facial recognition and a brief greeting to Alex Wesker via intercom allowing him entry. He tried to ignore the cameras that trained on him intensely as he parked and stepped out his vehicle, certain that she was somewhere, watching, calculating his every move before he made it. When he found the bolted metal side door she had previously described in an email, he finally glanced at a camera that was pointed at him and tipped his head. A small _click_ announced his welcome.

He hauled it open and began to descend the mass of stairs inside. The lower he went, the darker, more ominous it became. Before long, the darkness began to be broken by the occasional blaring fluorescent light. 

Alex had invited him back to seal her end of the contract and wire through his check... Among other things. The ‘ _complications_ ’ of exactly how his contract played out had proved to be quite jarring, however Alex insisted he would be fine for some time. The infection should not take hold so long as he avoids strong onsets of stress and/or arousal. It had been a week since then, before she finally sent him the highly anticipated email regarding his payment, as well as the vaccine - free of charge, of course (“for your troubles", the email had described).

At the bottom of the long flight of stairs was what appeared to be a dead end. Nicholai moved to inspect further before a loud hiss made him flinch and reach for the knife in his belt, habitually. The rustic metal wall dislodged like a lid being removed from a chest before casting to the side, exposing the hidden passageway beyond. 

“Pleasure to see you again, Ginovaef.” 

A long white researcher’s overcoat graced over Alex's otherwise smartly dressed attire with dark tights and a knee length skirt that hugged tightly to her thighs. Her slight smirk unnerved Nicholai and made him feel on edge, almost like she was crawling in his mind, still calculating his every thought.

Despite this, he smiled. “Pleasure's all mine.” he said, moving to walk alongside her down the winding corridor. She clutched a clipboard to her chest as she guided him, speaking to him nonchalantly about the long drive. As she spoke, Nicholai glanced at the stark contrast of the interior; a secret underground facility different to what he had saw above. Monitors littered every corner, windows that showed into rooms with unspeakable experiments being conducted within. Nicholai was sure he heard a distant wail before his attention was quickly torn back to the scientist. 

“I’m sure you are eager to collect your payment. And, of course, I have also...” she chuckled under her breath, “- synthesised a vaccine for you. Withholding such a thing from you would be... immoral.”

Nicholai's blood ran cold at her tone, but he merely clenched his jaw and remained impassive. Such a woman was so hard to read and predict and it left the hairs on his arms standing on edge. She used her key card to unlock an automatic door and Nicholai followed after her, absent mindedly letting his eyes drift over the numerous windows into the strange rooms. Some held infected zombies, some held mutated creatures and others... Were they _plants_? 

Alex finally approached an office-like room and keyed them inside. Her heeled shoes clicked loudly on the wooden floor as she crossed the space and lent down over a computer, gesturing Nicholai to take a seat in the computer chair beside her. As he did so, he swivelled towards the screen, eyes unconsciously casting over the top of Alex’s blouse that was tipped just above eye level next to him. He reluctantly looked away, his cock stirring. The fact he hadn’t been able to fuck anything in a whole week made him wonder if she was doing so on purpose.

A few clicks and a tap of the keyboard and the figures on the screen were prepared with the sum of money they had previously discussed. Alex stood upright at last and Nicholai readjusted himself in the chair. 

“As promised. Would you like to do the honours?”

Nicholai nodded, just wanting to release the tension building ever since he arrived here so that he could go as soon as possible. Regardless, the transferring icon after he hastily tapped the ENTER key still sent a flourish through his body. He laughed aloud then, and clapped his thighs. His celebration was cut short though, as he quickly queried; “And the vaccine?”

Alex nodded. “Of course. It’s just in the lab.”

Nicholai was not delighted at having to follow the ominous character through the winding hallways again, but he pushed through until she finally asked him to wait outside a small room. A few minutes after she disappeared inside, the strange noises made Nicholai begin to slowly pace the corridor as he waited for her, curiously inspecting the various scenes through the windows along the walls.

And then there was the window into the room that held a thin, pale boy laying flat on a metal platform, arms and legs strapped firmly in place. He was almost completely nude, albeit a loose pair of paper thin white trousers made of a material similar to those used in hospital gowns. His body lay still as though he had been there for some time, but Nicholai could see his hands flex and clench against his wrist binds when he inspected more closely.

The small form panting, sweat making his loose black curls cling to his forehead made Nicholai’s gut stir almost instinctively in response, as though his body and mind had created an unconscious association process. When Alex reappeared from the small room spinning a small purple needle between her fingers, he couldn’t find the drive to pull his eyes away.

He felt more than heard her move to stand beside him, placing the sheathed needle atop her clipboard.

“...Ah, yes. The reason you are in this whole mess to begin with. The mechanic, Mr. Sandwich.”

Nicholai frowned, _Sandwich??_ , but continued to stare as he spoke, the two of them simply regarding him curiously. “You said the virus had mutated in him.”

“It did. His blood quickly produced antibodies to defend itself soon after.”

Nicholai wasn’t too sure what to say to that, so he simply mumbled; “I’m sorry.”

Alex was the first to pull her eyes away from the boy, a calm expression softening her features as she responded to Nicholai. “Don’t be. It simply further proves his worthiness as a superior host. I simply need to provoke the virus further.” She sighed then, and cast her eyes down to her clipboard. “He is just proving to be rather stubborn.”

Nicholai forced his eyes to tear away and meet Alex's now warm ones. “...Stubborn?”

Alex hummed quietly, “I can’t seem to replicate the perfect fusion of fear and pleasure that you were able to deliver to him, Ginovaef.” 

Nicholai’s gut stirred harder when his mind drifted to a week ago, a strange mixture of pride and smugness making him feel as though Alex somewhat appreciated him for what had happened. He scoffed loudly, “The kid’s pretty sensitive. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to shake him up and get his hormones going.”

“Perhaps not.” Alex uttered, furrowing her eyebrows. “But he seems all but resistant to many forms of fear or pleasure I have exposed him to since his containment here. He just doesn’t seem to _care_ what happens to him.”

As she spoke, she seemed to be conflicted, her gloved hand half-way holding the vaccine up to pass to Nicholai, but faltering. Her eyes then fixed with his, a foreign playfulness dancing there.

“You _could_ have this now,” she said, rolling the syringe in her fingers, “although the effects would not be dissimilar if you had it in a few hours, instead.”

Nicholai’s ears pricked up at her implication. “You mean there’s no rush...?”

Alex chuckled, a light and sultry sound before her suggestion made Nicholai’s heart rate accelerate; “Want to play with him for a bit?”

“...What would be in it for me?”

Her smile softened and she glanced back through the glass at Martin who had now relaxed more fully, head dropped sideways in an attempt to seemingly slumber. The twist and pull on his wrists seemed less frequent.

“I see the hunger in your eyes, Nicholai. I don’t have to _give_ you anything. I’ll just look after _this_ for you.”

She wiggled the vaccine in the air before dropping it into the pocket of her white lab coat. The use of his first name made Nicholai feel a sense of informality, like the change in events was almost ‘off the record'. When he didn’t respond straight away, she turned from him with a flourish of her coat and pressed her key card against the heavy duty door to Martin’s room.

“The button beneath the metal platform will free the metal bindings and release him. Understood?” When Nicholai simply nodded quickly in response, she added; “...Are you coming?”

Nicholai’s feet couldn’t have strode in faster behind her.

As soon as the strain of metal against metal announced the door opening and their arrival, Martin did not flinch from his place on the platform. His facial features contorted into a frown, although he did not bother to open his closed eyes. On this side of the room, Nicholai could see that the glass was in fact a giant one way mirror to enable onlookers to see inside. Aside from that and the metal platform, the room had merely a small toilet, sink and various empty shelves. The room was barely lit before, however it suddenly blared to a stark white as soon as they entered, making Martin scrunch his eyelids closed more fully.

“Give it up already, lady.” 

Nicholai clenched his jaw. How did this firm, bratty voice belong to the same boy who was crying, begging mere days ago? As he walked further into the room, his heavy boots made an evidently distinguishable contrast to the gentle click of heels. The sound made Martin’s eyelids finally flutter open, the rebellious teenage pout melting from his face like a spanked baby.

“Good evening, Mr. Sandwich. I brought some company today. I do hope you don’t mind.”

The smug satisfaction oozed off of Alex's words like blood from a gunshot wound and Nicholai could tell she was relishing the reaction she was finally drawing from the boy. Nicholai allowed her the luxury, remaining silent beside her as he simply smiled darkly at the boy who was craning his neck off the surface of the platform to see more of him.

Realisation was making Martin’s eyes dance back and fourth in panic, tugging at his restraints with renewed vigour. Muted grunts ripped from his chest from the effort, as his breath came short and fast.

“M-miss...” he mumbled.

Nicholai had never seen Alex smile so widely. Her eyes were lit by a pure delight when she turned her attention back to Nicholai. “I will be locking the door behind me. This one has proved to be...” she glared under her eyelashes back to Martin. “...Rather nimble.”

Nicholai slowly nodded. “Ah, yes...” He said quietly, “I know.”

Alex gave Martin one last look over, the sight practically giving her a skip in her step as she returned to the door. As she did so, Martin was protesting after her.

“Miss, I-... I’m sorry, I’ll...” his words trailed off, voice wobbling.

The change in formality and politeness in his tone was laughable. Alex stood on the other side of the automatic door and Nicholai couldn’t help the feeling of being a third wheel to the intense staring contest they were sharing. 

“Oh, my bird...” Alex finally said, “You brought this on yourself.” She carefully keyed her card on the other side of the door and, as it closed, she added; “I have matters I must attend to. You boys have fun.”

When the shutter closed, a deafening silence followed. Martin was watching him from where he lay, eyes wide and alert. As soon as Nicholai took his first pace toward him, his body began to strain desperately against his restraints. 

“Did you miss me?” Nicholai cooed as the distance closed between them. “...Of course you did.”

He watched as Martin shook his head frantically as Nicholai finally approached him, body looming over his. The platform reached around Nicholai’s mid waist, giving him a full view of the boy helplessly squirming, his bare chest rising and falling fast to accommodate his hasted breathing. Nicholai couldn’t deny he had fantasied about similar situations to this since the week before, the events unveiling his own sadistic tendencies to take what he wants, when he wants. And having the kid laying flat in front of him, wrists pinned to his sides and eyes pleading with him was simply heaven. 

Nicholai reached out towards Martin’s exposed abdomen, relishing in the way Martin stopped struggling completely and resorted to clenching his eyes closed and craning his neck away. When his hand connected with his skin, it was smooth, soft and already moist with a nervous sweat. He slowly trailed his hand up his torso, circling the dip of his stomach and up over his hardening nipples. Swept over his collar bones, over his sensitive neck. When Martin instinctively gasped, his hand locked over his throat and squeezed just enough to send the small body into a wave of futile struggling again.

The memories of the gentle gasps and whimpers was undeniably making him already rock hard in his pants. He leant in, speaking softly into Martin’s reddening face. “Why are you so scared? It could be _so_ much worse. You’re only pinned to a bed and locked in a small room with your rapist.” He chuckled, “Although, it doesn’t really get much worse than that, does it?” 

Tears were gathering in the corners of Martin’s eyes now and the accompanying whimpers were trapped behind the squeeze of his throat. The moment Nicholai released him, he snatched his lips up in a deep one-sided kiss before Martin could take a much needed breath. His struggling elevated further, either from the desperation for oxygen or from the unconsented kiss and Nicholai began to feel the sharp pain of teeth pressing into him. The resistance only made a spark ignite deep in his gut and, before he knew it, he had lifted himself onto the platform and mounted the small frame beneath him.

Martin’s body squirmed and shivered as Nicholai licked and sucked down his neck and chest, littering small purple love bites down his torso. When his tongue dipped into the length of his naval and followed where it trailed to the hem of his trousers, Martin’s hips bucked upwards unconsciously. Martin’s thin trousers were almost sheer and Nicholai could vaguely see the outline of his flaccid member under the fabric beneath. He clutched it firmly, hand rubbing as it squished against Martin’s thigh.

When Martin’s knees trembled, Nicholai chuckled evilly. “I was told you weren’t taking the experiments in pleasure and fear well. You were just missing me, da?” 

When Martin did not answer and merely turned his chin away, Nicholai began to tear at the flimsy seams of the fabric, jolting the boy back to attention. 

“You prefer--" A loud ripping of material, “—it to be _taken_ from you. Don’t worry, I understand.”

When all shreds of the material were ripped from his thin legs like wet paper, Martin’s protests began and sent Nicholai into a wave of deja vù that made him growl like an animal. He lowered himself down, catching the skin of Martin’s inner thigh in his teeth and biting hard enough to draw blood. Martin cried out and Nicholai could feel the muscles in his thighs tightening in response to the shock of pain, utterly defenseless.

When Nicholai released his teeth and trailed his tongue upwards to his groin, he frowned at Martin’s still flaccid member laying flat on his stomach. He prodded a hard finger at it, watching as his lower body attempted to recoil in its confinements. 

“What, the dirty masochist doesn’t want to play today? That’s too bad.” Nicholai readjusted himself into a sitting position, a thigh straddled on each side of Martin’s torso. He began pulling at the thick leather of his belt, the buckle jangling loudly as he worked free his painfully hard member. “Perhaps you can do something for me, instead.”

He relished in the way Martin’s eyes widened, his fruitless squirming only elevating as Nicholai inched himself closer to his face and dropped the heavy muscle hard on his cheek. The skin there quickly reddened underneath him, from either humility or embarrassment. The girth easily swallowed the entirety of one side of his face, making him lay his other cheek flat against the platform to shy away.

“Let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, eh?” Nicholai smiled, grasping a hold of Martin’s chin and pulling hard against his resistance to straighten his head.

“You put that thing anywhere near my mouth and your losing it!” Martin spat.

Nicholai had to admit he was somewhat surprised. Alex had said the boy had become stubborn since his time here, but he hadn’t expected him to use _that_ tone on him. He squeezed his chin between his fingers, the flesh there forcibly squishing his lips into a thick pout, swollen and red from the previous attention.

“You seem to misjudge why I’m here,” he said, reaching for the sharp knife that sat on his belt. The blade was placed on the other side of his face, the point pressing into the thin skin under his cheekbone. From experience, he knew this was usually enough to scare the attitude off of the brat. “You haven’t been responding to the experiments, boy. You’re useless now. I’ve been sent in here to do what I please with you, and then kill you.” 

The lie was quickly disputed. “That’s not true. She needs me and what’s in me. I’m not _stupid_.” 

Nicholai was almost about to change his approach, but then something washed over Martin’s facial features, diluted the rebelliousness there. Doubt? Self conflicted? Almost as though he was battling to add to the end of his sentence; _right_? 

Nicholai pressed further. “You really think you’re more than just a guinea pig to her? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re better off dead if you aren’t going to give others their way here.” 

He watched the different emotions clouding his eyes. Nicholai impatiently rolled his hips forward, backward, feeling the thick skin glide against his plump cheek until his balls brushed his chin. The thick hairs there made the boy twitch when they stimulated the sensitive skin of his neck. He repeated the motion, this time gliding it closer until it barely brushed the corner of his mouth. 

Finally he sighed in frustration, pressing the knife tip more pointedly into the side of his neck, just enough to pierce a thin layer of flesh and make Martin yelp in pain. “Come on, what’s it to be? You really want to die over this? Open your fucking mouth.”

Surprisingly, Martin’s lips just barely parted and Nicholai moved to properly straddle his head and push the thick tip of his cock inside. As soon as the swollen head disappeared, he exhaled in pleasure, loosely sending shallow thrusts that just barely entered his mouth. When it began to lather with warm wet saliva and Martin still hadn’t properly acted up, he precautiously pushed more of himself inside. 

There it was. As soon as he felt the clash of teeth, he just barely pulled himself free in time. However, the canines scraping along the sensitive organ on the way out was unavoidable, and he hissed in pain. He dropped the knife next to Martin’s head and used both hands to lift his skull before briskly slamming it back down on to the metal platform, not once but twice. The loud metallic thuds rang loud around the room and, when he had done, Martin’s eyes appeared glazed over, hazy and absent. 

Nicholai slapped his cheek repeatedly with perhaps a little too much pressure. In a voice that was laced with anger, he growled; “No, no, stay with me. Don’t go fainting on me now.”

The life was reluctantly returning to his glassy blue eyes and Nicholai wasn’t surprised that he didn’t resist the next time he was forcing more of his cock in his mouth. He quickly found a steady rhythm of thrusts, shallow to begin with but increasingly sending more inside. By now, Martin’s head was lulling side to side from the movement, and Nicholai had to brace it still with his hands. After a few thrusts, he sheathed himself that little further, cock throbbing at the feeling of the smooth innards of his cheeks and the limp, but rough, tongue inside. Martin blinked rapidly as though he was finally clearing his head some and Nicholai could feel his body between his legs returning to its squirming in discomfort.

When he saw the tense of his jaw and the space closing yet again, he tugged hard on Martin’s hair like the reins of a horse, making him cease immediately and groan in pain around his member. The vibrations that followed filled his head with a buzz and he pulled harder, lodging the opening of his throat open with the deepness of his member.

He was pushing his luck, and it showed because Martin clenched his jaw again, regardless of the searing pain in his scalp. Nicholai shouted, cussing obscenities as he withdrew himself, the adrenaline sending the back of his hand sweeping across Martin’s face in an instant. The boy yelped, his body momentarily limp as he tried to retain focus over his probable blurred vision and ringing in his ears. Before he could properly do so, Nicholai had already collected his blade and scooted backwards over his chest.

The blade only needed to touch the skin gently to glide a thick bloody line down his chest. The piercing shriek that followed was enough to make Nicholai swell back to full hardness. 

“You obey _me._ You **belong** to me.” Nicholai was saying, each sentence accenting a new, thick line where the knife pierced his flesh. “Do you understand?!”

When he was finished, a large crimson letter **N** stood stark and bold on Martin’s white flesh, the typography tainted by droplets of blood that was already cascading down his trembling body. The overwhelming feeling of ownership made Nicholai’s body swell with energy, adrenaline, the need to _devour_. When he finally tore his eyes away from his handiwork, Martin was weeping, head turned from him and eyes squeezed closed. 

He leaned forward, body looming over him and face so close that his breath blew thin strands of Martin’s obsidian hair into a frenzy. “Say it.”

He could see where Martin’s muscles were clenching and unclenching, pressing itself as painfully close to the metal platform as though he could somehow melt into it. When Nicholai repeated himself, his voice firmer, it was Martin’s small, barely audible voice that cut him off before he could finish.

“You’re a coward.”

Nicholai felt a rage stirring in his gut, could feel the veins begin to stand against his flesh. He moved close to Martin’s ear, so close that his lips brushed it when he spoke; “Say that again.”

Nicholai could hear the trembling breath that followed. He waited, patient, despite the way adrenaline surged so quickly through his veins that it made his blood boil.

Martin whimpered but, as he spoke, his voice began to get firmer. “I-I'm just a kid. You do all this when I’m strapped down and can’t face you. You’re a coward.”

As he listed his reasoning, Nicholai abruptly rose from him, hauling himself off of the platform. His heavy boots made a loud thud that sliced the tense silence like a knife. This made Martin pause and glance at him worriedly as Nicholai hitched his trousers around his waist before he hesitantly continued. “ Y-you threaten me with a knife when I’m defenseless. You're only doing this because someone paid you.”

As Nicholai knelt beside the platform and peered underneath, he said; “I can assure you it’s a lot more than that.” The steady _click_ of a release button sent the metal bindings over Martin’s wrists and ankles snapping open. In the next instant, Nicholai snatched the blade and sent it shooting across the room, an almost sizzling like sound emulating from it as it sliced through the air before homing in on the opposite wall of the room. The handle stood upright where it had landed, the force driving its blade already halfway into the wall. 

Despite his new freedom, Martin was frozen on the platform, visibly shaken and eyes as wide as saucers, ridden with panic. Nicholai cast his eyes away from the target he had been aiming at, gesturing to his empty hands. 

“You want to face me? _Try it_.”

It took a long moment before Martin’s limbs began to twitch to life, at first just the flex of his hands and feet to adjust to the freedom before progressing to more pointed movements like drawing his knees up into a sitting position. All the while, everything was in almost slow motion, as though trying to hazard as little of a reaction from Nicholai as possible. 

Patience was never one of Nicholai’s strong qualities, however watching the boy stare at him with petrified eyes as he carefully nursed the red, raw marks on his wrists sent a blooming feeling of satisfaction through his body. The blood beading from the knife wound he had created was trailing slowly down his abdomen now, making a slow and careful retreat down to where his hip bone drew out and Nicholai wanted so badly to catch it under his tongue.

When Martin leapt messily over the other side of the platform, Nicholai felt no matter of urgency as he paced around it in pursuit. Martin clearly hadn’t stood upright in some time and collapsed over a twisted ankle as quickly as he had got up. He hissed and cussed under his breath as he wobbled back to his feet and scurried to the large automatic entrance to the room. 

Nicholai drew pleasure from the way the boy frantically tapped buttons, smacking it with a fist in frustration before quickly abandoning the idea and resulting to tugging at Nicholai’s knife protruding from the accompanying wall with all his might. When this, too, was fruitless, he began to turn but was slammed into the wall before he could fully do so.

Nicholai’s body pressed flush against his back, hands already roaming out to seek the touch he had been craving the past week. The bones were close to the skin on the frail body and small blueish bruises still littered his hips and tailbone after all this time. He ran his hands down his sides, squeezed his hip bones and ground himself against the flesh of his behind at the same time. Martin grunted and his hands quickly reached behind him, clawing at his forearms and leaving short, red welts. The discomfort made Nicholai squish Martin’s hands hard into the wall. 

“This is what you wanted,” Nicholai chuckled when Martin squirmed in desperation against him. “Is this going well for you?” 

Martin’s head snapped back and Nicholai heard a loud crunch as the back of his head crashed into his nose. He released Martin to nurse his face, scowling as he spat blood into Martin’s hair before it could trap in his wind pipe and choke him. 

Martin had scuttered around his legs and attempted to get to his feet before he was booted back to his knees. His hands scrambled for leverage on the nearby rusted sink to regain his footing but Nicholai again sent his meek frame collapsing in a heap at the foot of the toilet. 

Blood was making a steady flow down his nose and into his mouth thanks to the angle he had received the head butt, and Nicholai grit his teeth, livid. He watched Martin’s hands trying to pull himself upright using the toilet, but the seat wobbled from where its hinges barely held it in place and made his arms tremble. Nicholai grabbed him by the back of his hair and plummeted his body weight down onto him.

An almost scream escaped before any further sounds were drowned out by the gurgle of dirty water. Martin’s body lashed out around him and Nicholai couldn’t stifle the manic laughter that erupted as he kept his head locked beneath water. He was certain his forearms were also bleeding where Martin was scratching him in desperation, but the pain felt mute, insignificant compared to the immense pleasure derived from assaulting the youth. 

Before long, Nicholai tugged hard on the dark locks, sending the boy spluttering and coughing water all over the front of the toilet. He began to inhale sharply but his head was back under before he could fully fill his lungs. 

“This is fun, I like this, _yes_!” Nicholai shouted over the splashing and choking. He found that he pulled him afloat much sooner than he had planned, just to relish in the satisfaction the boy’s terrified gasping brought. And yet, he was rewarded with something far greater. 

“ _Ah_ , p-please!” Martin cried, before spluttering water from his lips. “ _Please_ stop, _please_!”

There it was. The begging he had so missed. Nicholai felt a smile prick at the corner of his lips and found himself whispering, darkly; “You going to be a good little boy and let me fuck you?” 

Martin had stopped struggling and was frantically blinking dirty water from his eyes. When he didn’t answer fast enough, Nicholai dunked his head again, a quick splash which had the boy shouting as soon as he had reached the surface again. 

“ **Yes!** Yes, please stop!” 

Martin’s head practically bounced off of the toilet seat with the suddenness of Nicholai releasing him and he hurriedly wiped and scrubbed away at his face with his hands. Nicholai tossed aside his belt and freed himself, pressing his already hard cock along the crack of Martin’s behind where he was hunched against the toilet. 

He just barely heard Martin call out for him to wait before he was pushing his hips forward into his hole, gritting his teeth against the painful resistance of forcing it in dry. The way Martin’s body went rigid as it clutched hard onto the seat and he screamed was enough to keep Nicholai fully erect the whole time it fought its way into the painfully tight space.

“ _Ow, ow, ow, ow, no_!” Martin was whimpering, and Nicholai bit his lip when he drew back out and saw red glistening around his dick. He reached around between Martin’s legs, grabbing hold of his flaccid flesh and jerking it slowly in time with his thrusts. 

“You’ll be thanking me later.” Nicholai promised, his voice husky. 

“F-f-fuck you.” 

Nicholai rolled his eyes, annoyance knitting its way into his movements as he jutted his hips firmer and with more precision towards his prostate. He earned a struggled yelp in response, and his other hand moved to pinch and tug at a nipple. Blood and precum was beginning to fuse into a dull lubricant that eased the glide of his cock inside. 

“Don’t be like that. I know all the stuff you like.” To accent his words, Nicholai ground his hips downward, watching the boy spasm and whimper when his cock prodded deeply into the bundle of nerve endings inside. Finally he felt the involuntary throb of life springing to the cock in his hand. “Do you like it?”

Apart from stifled weeping, Martin showed no sign to respond. With his hand beginning to work his cock faster, he latched onto the back of his skull again, forcing his head downwards towards the water. Martin used his arms against the toilet seat to keep himself alift, the effort of straining against Nicholai's strength making them wobble and burn.

“ _I like it, I like it, I **love** it!_” Martin spat, voice strained. Instead of releasing him, Nicholai pulled his hair backwards then, using it as leverage to thrust up into him harder and faster. He could feel adrenaline sending blood rushing fast south, making him almost delirious as he honed in on his release. A particularly well aimed thrust made a more lewd sound rip from Martin, and Nicholai made sure to send each pistoned jerk of his hips hard into his prostate while he came.

The force of sending Martin’s frail body into the toilet rattled the loose porcelain toilet seat loudly as he was thrown against it repeatedly. After several hard thrusts sent Nicholai’s seed seeping into him, the seat snagged off completely. Martin almost slipped off with it, before he clutched at its corners with desperate fingers and swung it over his shoulder with all the remaining strength he could muster. Nicholai was far too dazed from his release to properly react.

The loud collision onto Nicholai’s skull sent shatters of porcelain showering onto the wet floor. Nicholai felt his muscles tense and jerk in adrenaline fused anger, but the black dots clouding his vision made him swing a fist into nothingness as his body hunched down. He touched his temple, wincing at the tenderness and wetness left behind on his hand. Then he blindly pressed around the foot of the toilet, but the little fucker had already gone. 

Nicholai was fuming. His mind was racing, urging him to fight but his body was slumping onto the wet floor against his will. As he collapsed, he used his position of the ground to force open his heavy lidded eyes and watched the mechanic skilfully tear the lid off of the keycard reader. He just barely heard a muted _ow!_ when one of the disconnected wires sent a spark flying that singed the tips of Martin’s narrow fingers. The loud scrape of metal against metal announcing the automatic door opening was the last thing Nicholai heard before everything faded to black.

* * *

  
“Ginovaef. **_Ginovaef!”_**

The stab of a long heel jabbing into his side made Nicholai jerk away, body hauling into an immediate sitting position that sent a wave of nausea through him. 

Alex was glaring down at him, her eyes dark and malicious. Nicholai just barely registered his cock was still out, and he hastily rearranged his trousers as she spoke.

“Where the _fuck_ is my subject?” 

Nicholai’s heart raced at the venom in her voice as he quickly gained recollection of what had happened. 

“It’s under control, ma’am--"

“ _Under control?_ You think a test subject running loose around my facility is _under control_? You had better fix this mess you have made, Ginovaef, or I swear to God I will make an abomination out of you!” 

Alex turned on her heels and stormed briskly out of the room as Nicholai was scrambling to his feet and frantically collecting his things. He roughly brushed his fingers through his hair, wiping sweat and small shards of porcelain away before tearing his knife out of the wall. He made quick work of hurrying after Alex to ask if he could be directed to somewhere he could scan cameras around the facility but, by the time he made it to the hallway, she had already gone. 

Nicholai scratched his short fingernails irritably into his wounded scalp. 

...

“Fuck.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicholai has only one way to win Alex over as a client, and he needs to start by clearing the mess he's made. 
> 
> Maybe then she will consider giving him the antidote. And maybe even consider paying him for future endeavours involving the subject causing her so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter, however is beginning to explore the potential of this being a genuine plot-driven ship. Also digging deep to see if Nicholai has any ounce of humanity left, even when money is involved. 
> 
> Next chapter coming soon. I have a few ideas for this. Let me know what you think.

The narrow hallways were almost silent if not for the impatient, hurried tread of Nicholai’s boots echoing off of the walls. He paced aimlessly for only a minute, perhaps less, before he skidded to a halt at a mounted map of the facility. 

His eyes surveyed the outskirts of the facility, trying to pinpoint where a panicked, but still smart-headed escapee would quickly decide on their exit. They were around the south-east area of the map and the journey towards the entrance, which would undoubtedly be guarded, seemed like an option with risks. Nicholai could only hazard a guess, but his certainty that Martin would instead flee to where supply crates where dropped into the facility made a smile prick at his lips. 

An authoritative, static voice from a distant room pulled Nicholai from his surveying and he only needed to pace a little further down the corridor to find the office where the voice omitted from. As he approached, he recognised Alex's voice addressing him through the intercom adjacent to him. He cleared his throat before pressing the small button to dispatch his response, but she had already began speaking over him.

“Save it. Your purpose is simply to clean up your mess and then get out of my facility as soon as possible.”

Nicholai frowned, brushing his fingers through his hair to flatten its tangles from the turmoil of the day. The blood around the wound on his head had dried to a dark brownish smudge that he scrubbed with his coarse fingertips as his client continued speaking.

“In this room there are syringes on the surface tops. You will take one serum with you to use on the subject to finish your work here.” Nicholai was investigating the desk in question, at the spread of syringes, the needles covered with a safety guard. As he lifted one and flicked the container to watch the cyan substance bounce inside, Alex added; “They will subdue the subject so that you can return him to his cell. He will have insufficient energy to fight you.”

The stab to Nicholai’s pride had his face contort into a scowl. He mumbled, irritably; “I don’t _need_ an advantage against that puny child-"

“I _don’t_ want to hear it. Just go and get the job done. I have captured his movements which show he is heading towards the rear of the facility, towards the-"

“Loading bay,” Nicholai finished for her. When Alex queried how he knew, he said; “I was already on my way.”

Alex’s tone finally seemed to soften in affirmation. “Well, good. I will send an escort for you should you lose your way. It is imperative you reach the loading bay before he does.”

With the serum dropped securely into his pocket, Nicholai had long left the room before she finished speaking.

* * *

Nicholai’s strides were quick and purposeful, making his trip there as swift as possible. He merely only glanced at other map to reorientate himself and, as a result, almost walked straight into an armed security guard as he rounded a sharp corner. He grunted, half surprised and half frustrated as the young man hurriedly collected himself by straightening his back politely. 

“Sir,” he greeted him, “Alex Wesker has instructed me to escort you to your location, if required.”

Nicholai rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth at the feeling of being patronised by the woman. He reached into his back pocket to retrieve a couple of bills, he didn’t even roll them out to check, before squashing them into the chest pocket of the man’s security vest.

“Why don’t you take a break on me, kid, _huh_?” he said, already shouldering past him and ignoring the confused stammering behind him in response. 

Nicholai was relieved he hadn’t bothered to follow him and protest as, quite frankly, Nicholai was feeling irritable and stressed and just needed a second alone to breathe. No doubt a little work out session (perhaps a punching bag?) would really settle the negativity of how the day had treated him. Nicholai half hoped Martin would maybe get there before him and he could jump straight into the reward of adrenaline and testosterone when taking him by surprise. 

But alas, he had arrived at the loading bay within a short few minutes and his eyes scanned back and fourth over the supply crates and the conveyer belts in the large lab-like room only to conclude he was alone. He propped himself up onto one of the boxes, letting out a strained exhale and waited. 

One of the conveyer belts moved a large, metal crate alongside him and he turned his face up to his metallic reflection from a distance. He looked like hell and, although the wounds were (for the most part) dry, his lip and brow had a small cut that were parallel to one another. He wiped the grease of grime and sweat that glistened from his face and brushed his fingers through his hair again, thinking to himself how badly he needed a nice hot shower to wrap up this shitshow. 

Then, finally, footsteps approaching the room that sent his eyes drifting to the entrance. As they grew closer, louder, he dropped from his seat on the crate. Excitement for a power struggle, a fight, made his heart sing. 

And it sank as quickly as it did. The security guard clad in his fully armoured dark uniform nervously entered the room. Nicholai’s face must have conveyed his disappointment because the man was quickly trying to reason with him before he could dismiss him again.

“W-well, actually, sir,” he murmured, stopping in front of him, “I think I might have accidentally found the trespasser for you. He didn’t see me but I can take you to him?”

An unexpected turn of events, but still somehow working in Nicholai’s favour as he followed behind the young security guard. He read the signs indicating the direction they were going as he was escorted to his new destination before the guard had led him to slightly ajar door with the sound of rummaging inside. The text beside the door read ‘Break Room'.

The guard seemed quick to dismiss himself, moving silently back the way he came. Nicholai nodded thanks to him as he left, before then turning his attention to the scurry of sound in the room and taking a deep breath before pushing the door.

Low and behold, the small frame of the young boy with his back turned to the intruder was rummaging through the contents of the fridge. He paid him no mind; that is, until the door opened fully and bounced against the wall behind it. Then Martin jumped and leapt from his squatting position, bracing himself against the kitchen counter. His legs were covered by a pair of blue scrubs and an off-white lab coat draped over his upper body. The coat turned a pinkish hue over his left breast area where Nicholai knew he was more than likely still bleeding underneath from the large lettering wound he had inflicted earlier. His obsidian curls were also still wet from dirty water, matted against his face and dripping down his slender neck. 

Martin’s lips were littered with crumbs, his cheeks still plump from where he had been hungrily chewing somebody’s sandwich, and he hurriedly swallowed hard to finish his mouthful as quickly as possible. It was almost comical to watch and Nicholai bit back a chuckle as he slowly closed the door behind him. 

There were a couple of couches in the middle of the room, comfortably separating the two men. Nicholai revelled in the look of defeat and dismay tainting Martin’s face as he began to circle around the obstructions towards him. 

“No, _no_...” Martin’s voice was distraught. “Why did they send _you_?” 

As Nicholai stepped closer, the quiet trill of a propelling platform made Nicholai glance into the upper corner of the room. One of Alex’s cameras was mounted there and was carefully tracking their movements, watching what was playing out. 

He turned his attention back to the boy who, to his surprise, hadn’t made a move to distance himself from him and was instead sinking further into the corner of the room. “I think you and I have a little debt to settle at this point, don’t you agree?” 

Martin had slumped to the carpet, drawing his knees up to his chest and cradling himself. As Nicholai drew closer, he buried his head into his forearms to completely avoid his gaze. 

Nicholai slowly, menacingly moved to stand in front of him and nudged him sharply with his boot. “Get up.”

Martin’s face remained buried, but Nicholai could see the small movement of him shaking his head against his arms. 

“Do I have to _make_ you?”

The tension in the air made Nicholai's heart beat loudly in his ears, made his manhood twitch in interest almost as though out of habit when hearing him whine. He wasn't sure what the overbearing feeling was that rode on his shoulders when demanding something from the boy. The power and ownership almost made him delirious, but not when the kid didn't at least put up a fight. _This_ , this was pitiful.

“ _Please_ ,” came the muffled response, “No more. Isn’t this enough? I just want to be normal. I just want to be a _normal_ teenager.”

Nicholai grabbed him by his elbow and hauled him to his feet as though he weighed nothing. Martin yelped in response and his voice came out faster, louder and more desperate. 

“Just for one day before everything gets taken away from me, **one** day!” he cried, and then spat; “ _don’t touch me!_ ” 

What was this feeling nawing at him? Was Nicholai beginning to actually feel _sorry_ for this brat? He caught one of his wrists when Martin began to beat at his chest, almost knocking the wind from him. “Stop resisting, just go back to your cell and let me finish my job and then I’ll be out of your hair--"

“ _No_! I don’t _want_ this!”

His loose fist clipped Nicholai’s jaw and Nicholai ground his teeth together in anger. He clutched a fistful of fabric of his stolen lab coat, twisting until the material was taut before thrusting him hard against the wall. The boy grunted and seized fighting completely at the threatening glare Nicholai bore into him. 

Martin’s eyes were getting glassy, his body trembling under the force of Nicholai’s hold on him. When Nicholai fished into his pocket and pulled out the syringe, Martin was quietly mumbling; “What’s that?”

Nicholai didn’t answer and merely used his teeth to pull off the safety cap, and Martin’s arms sprung back to life, frantically pushing at his muscular arms in a futile attempt to keep the needle at bay. 

“Hold still.”

“No, stop, _please_ don’t--" 

Nicholai pushed the needle towards the thin skin of his neck and Martin drew his shoulder in sharply, closing the space and throwing his hand up in defence without thinking and—

The soft _splat_ of the needle jabbing his palm made the pair freeze, the silence broken only by the heavy breathing of their struggle. Nicholai pressed the back of the syringe until the small tube was empty and Martin whimpered, “ _Ow, ow ow_!” as it went. 

Nicholai spat the safety cap out of his mouth, withdrawing the needle and aimlessly discarding that on the floor with it. Martin was panting, his mouth open in disbelief and eyes darting between Nicholai and his punctured hand to process what had happened. Nicholai waited, patient, as the serum was likely to work very quickly with how fast Martin’s blood was pumping through his veins from the scuffle. 

Despite the invasive liquid working in his system, Martin remained persistent. He strained against Nicholai a few moments longer, pushing hard against his chest and continuing to ramble, “Just _one_ day of normality, then I don’t _care_ what happens--"

His voice drifted off momentarily, slurred before the sentence could form a cohesive end. The struggling limbs weakened and Martin’s body was gradually beginning to slump into Nicholai’s arms. Martin seemed desperate to cling to consciousness, muttering protests into Nicholai’s chest. Nicholai calmly waited for them to cease to a muted mumble before bracing Martin at the waist and slinging his lifeless body over his shoulder. 

A deep sigh of relief calmed him as he carried him out the room, only to jump in surprise when Alex stood waiting for him on the other side of the door. Her armed guard stood like a puppy dog behind her. Nicholai couldn’t help but ponder when she had arrived (and so silently too) but the foreign look of joy that washed over her face when seeing the subject subdued made any further thoughts evade him. 

“Oh, _excellent_!” she gushed, and then quickly took a breath to compose herself. “Follow me.”

The familiar walk back to the boy's cell seemed long and tedious, despite how the body on his shoulder weighed next to nothing. Alex was visibly pleased, smiling to herself as the rhythmic clicking of her heels against the tiles filled the silence. Nicholai attempted to make conversation.

“So, what happens now?”

“Well,” she said, “Your antidote will be returned to you, of course. This boy will return to his cell. I will need to continue to arouse the virus within him but-" she glanced condescendingly over her shoulder, “- I would rather you were not involved this time. You really made a mess of this one.”

Nicholai averted his gaze, pursing his lips together sheepishly. It did seem he was a little carried away in pursuing his own pleasure as opposed to anything mutual this time around. He hastily changed the subject. “You hear some of what he was saying in there? He even said he wouldn’t care what happened to him at one point.”

Alex hummed in approval as they rounded a corner, “Yes, I managed to pick up most of what he was saying from my office through the intercom. A ‘ _normal_ ’ life for a day. A tempting trade, but impossible.”

Nicholai shrugged with his free shoulder. “ _One_ day for a lifetime of giving you what you want. Pretty convincing since he is giving you next to no cooperation.” Alex was slowing to a stop beside him as he spoke, her pale blue eyes calculating him carefully. “I mean, cooperation seems to be the only problem you’re having with him, no?”

Alex scowled, but there was a curiosity to her tone; “Not that it’s any business of _yours_ anymore, but what are you implying? I can’t exactly expose myself and my subject into the public eye, not without a huge amount of precautions and, even _then_ , I have this whole facility to run.”

Nicholai sarcastically checked his fingernails, brushing them egotistically against his chest. “ _Weeeeell_ , my job queue just cleared, so for the right pay...”

Alex rolled her eyes and chuckled, ushering the guard to open a cell door in front of them. Nicholai promptly stepped inside and dropped Martin’s limp body back onto the seemingly uncomfortable metal platform. The guard then sprung into action, fastening his limbs back into the metal guards with a swiftness of experience. When all was completed, Nicholai turned to Alex who had the slightest tilt of a smile on her lips. 

“Come.”

* * *

Nicholai belted himself into his car, exhaling a loud sigh as the large barbed wired gates automatically opened in front of him. He rubbed at his wrist; the puncture where Alex had injected the antidote was itchy but was a reassuring reminder that his problems were, for the most part, solved. He glanced out of his windshield at the sheer mass of the facility and all of its secret going-ons within.

A camera swivelled towards his direction. He raised a hand from the steering wheel, a mock goodbye.

Yet, he somewhat suspected this may not be his last visit. If Alex somehow suddenly becomes successful in her trials with her subject, then _great_. Good for her. But if not...

Nicholai had planted the seed in her head. _He_ could play mind games, too. He was just one call away, if she had a job for him.

As long as she’s willing to pay. 


	4. Chapter 4

Nicholai tested the weight of the large firearm over his shoulder, smirking smugly at the beauty of its structure and design. He lifted the scope over his eye, wincing momentarily when it pressed onto the wound over his brow. The wound had scabbed over by now, but still felt tender to the touch.

“She a beauty, ain’t she?” The gunsmith said, a thick Texas accent slurring his speech. 

The shrill ringtone from Nicholai’s mobile phone blared loudly in the small shop and Nicholai carefully propped the firearm back onto the counter. He couldn’t help but sigh, disheartened as he had to temporarily part from the work of art. Nicholai bit his lip and apologised.

“It’s alright. Go ahead, son.”

As he moved away from the countertop, Nicholai’s footing froze as he read the caller ID. Only clients would call him through a private number. He lifted his phone to his ear, keeping his greeting short to allow the caller time to make their proposal. 

“How much?” was all the outlining he received. He recognised her voice immediately; had almost been anticipating it the past week. Just perhaps not so soon.

A wide smile spread across his lips. He had her in the palm of his hand. “Good to hear from you, ma’am. How are the experiments going for you?”

Alex’s voice had a degree of frustration, but she was clearly desperate. She didn’t humour Nicholai by answering his question and instead immediately proposed a fee for his services. Nicholai was surprised, but knew he could press further and reminded her this would be at least a 24 hour job. 

He managed to get her to bunk up her pay again with little protest and he dared not push any further out of fear of losing what was up there with some of his highest paid jobs. And for something that was going to be almost merely babysitting.

“I’ll see you soon.” he said, and he was sure she must have heard the smugness in his voice because it felt as though his chest was swelling with joy. He hung up his phone and turned back to the gunsmith. 

“I’ll take it!”

* * *

The sun was beginning to set the evening that Nicholai pulled into the carpark on the outskirts of Racoon City which was an unusual time to initiate a new contract, but Nicholai couldn’t complain. The cameras were once again a constant audience paying close eye to him as soon as he entered the building, right up until he was greeted with Alex’s cold stare. 

“Welcome back,” she said, but there was little warmth to her voice. She wore a white lab coat that neatly alined where her short miniskirt ended, perfectly framing her fishnet covered thighs. The same wooden clipboard with a mass of paperwork clipped inside was pressed against her breast. “It is troublesome that it has come to this. But it can’t be helped.”

Nicholai let her lead him upstairs to a section of the building he wasn’t familiar with. As they walked, she outlined the terms of the contract. He was to remain undercover with the subject and keep him content, to a degree. The subject would be disguised, and Nicholai was expected to not take up any other jobs in the mean time and spend the full timescale of the job closely monitoring the subject. 

She ushered him into an office. Half of the room was sectioned off and a door led to another, smaller room adjacent to them. She opened a chest of drawers, withdrawing a bulky metal smart watch that she instructed Nicholai fasten around his wrist. 

“This will enable you to keep him under control. The subject has two thin metal cuffs on his wrists. Not only does this device keep track of where he is should he get ‘lost’, but it will also administer a non-lethal, constant shock which would be... unpleasant. Should you have any issues with cooperation, it is likely to end any disputes.” 

Nicholai tapped at the digital screen of his watch, surveying the different options as Alex continued. 

“The pair of you will simply appear as nice, inconspicuous family relatives spending time together. He can do whatever he pleases, and we have come to an agreement that he will not call attention to himself, nor give you a hard time despite your differences.” She sighed, eyes drifting vacantly to another end of the room. “We are all working towards a common goal here. There is no need for this to be any more difficult than necessary.” 

“Sounds good,” Nicholai piped in, tucking the watch under his jacket sleeve. “Anything else?”

Alex met his gaze, before carefully removing a small zip up bag from her pocket. “These are blockers, only used for emergencies.” she said, “The boy is likely to have the virus activate as anticipated only when he is back in my care but, should anything go amiss or not according to plan... Then there is a possibility the virus would take hold whilst he is not in a lab environment. I would not be able to cover up from something exposed to the public eye in this scenario so these vials will quite simply subdue him and partially post pone the transformation process until you return.”

She waited a moment as Nicholai was processing what she was saying, his mouth agape. “You mean he could _turn_ outside?”

“If he is pleased enough,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Though, my instruments here are in sync with his blood cell activity, which I will be very closely monitoring at all times. So I will give you plenty of warning in advance to use a blocker serum on him. Keep your phone on.”

Nicholai reached to take the small bag from her and rose an eyebrow in confusion when she didn’t let go straight away. 

Her eyes were piercing. Her tone like stone. “One dose is a blocking effect, and I have provided two just to be safe. However, if more than one dose is administered in a space of a few hours, it will begin to reverse the effects of the virus.”

“...You mean like an antidote?”

“Like an antidote.” she affirmed. “I know you’ve had some silly miscalculations in the past with our contracts, but there is no room for error here.” She leaned in close to him, so close that he could smell her sweet perfume. “Keep them out of reach of him, please?” 

The threatening tone made the question void of any answer, especially when she added, “If a mistake like that were to happen, I’d certainly have to kill you!” – followed by a laugh that was dry and cold as Nicholai finally took the vials from her and placed them in the pocket of his cargo trousers. She exhaled and clasped her hands together. “Let’s bring him in, shall we?”

Nicholai watched as she addressed an officer on an intercom and the door opposite them drew open automatically. An armed guard strode in, calling out commands behind him. 

Martin timidly shuffled into the room behind him. He looked healthier than before, his hair fluffy and curls loose as though he had recently been showered. He must have been voluntarily eating more too as his skin looked fresher, cheeks more plump as opposed to sunken against his cheekbones in a sickly manner. The clothes he bared were clearly aiming for a trendy student facade, with a white button up shirt covered by a cropped smart blazer, tied together with a loose patterned tie that draped over his chest. His fashionably tight black trousers finished at his ankles and the look was topped off with a pair of black loafers. 

Nicholai wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Baggy trousers and a hooded sweater with a cap and sunglasses may have concealed his identity but would certainly call for a lot of suspicion and attention. However, with this look he quite simply blended in with the youth of the city. 

Martin’s pale eyes locked with Nicholai’s momentarily before the boy quickly cast his eyes to the ground. Nicholai wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or shame, but he was visibly not keen on the person of choice for the role of babysitter. 

Alex’s enthusiasm for the mutual agreement that had managed to be arranged was evident in how much she led conversation when she escorted them out. Nicholai appreciated how talkative she was, otherwise the long walk would have been incredibly awkward and silent. He couldn’t help but occasionally watch Martin as they walked, at how he pulled at the discomfort from the tightness off his new clothes or glanced in interest at the slightest peek into civilisation outside windows. The journey was finished in a blur and, before long, they were standing outside of Nicholai’s large black car. 

Alex and Nicholai were stood facing each other, perhaps on the verge of saying their goodbyes yet both eyes were trained on the subject. Even the armed guard seemed to have raised his gun slightly off his hip. There was a tension in the silence as they carefully watched the freed experiment look up at the darkened sky and take a deep breath of the cold night air. 

Nicholai wasn’t sure what to expect. For him to run? Would he even try? He was certain Alex was thinking the same, for no one had yet to break the now painfully obvious silence. 

Finally, Martin broke his gaze from the horizon and turned to face them, his expression calm, patient. Alex drew her attention back to Nicholai, her tone levelled and soft. “I will see you in a day’s time.”

“Yes, you will.” Nicholai answered. The automatic unlocking of his car seemed deafeningly loud in comparison to the quiet exchange. He opened the passenger side door and beckoned the boy who carefully and cautiously climbed into the seat. He caught him flinch when he closed it behind him. 

He moved around the drivers side and Alex ordered him once more to call her if there were any problems. 

“Of course, ma’am.” he said, lowering himself into the shared space and starting the ignition. Alex did not retreat from the cold night air and back into the facility until Nicholai’s car had completely rendered out of sight. Yet, somehow, Nicholai could still feel her cold piercing stare even then. 

* * *

The drive back to his home was completely silent and Nicholai wasn’t too enthused about the aspect of having someone share his living space, even if just for one night. The boy had his head turned from him as he peered out of the window. Forest trees blurred as they passed them, until eventually they began to dwindle and were replaced instead by the occasional streetlamp as they neared Racoon City. Martin’s knees were perched as far from him as possible. Nicholai fidgeted in the silence. Despite what Martin had previously come to in agreement with Alex, he still felt the need to reiterate certain points with him. 

“So, you know what happens if you try to play games? Those bands on your wrists have you in for a lot of pain.” 

He received no verbal response but he saw Martin’s head turn slightly towards him in the peripherals of his vision. 

“You see this?” he said, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to beckon to the smart watch on his wrist. “Anywhere you run. I will know.”

Nicholai finally peeled his eyes away from the road and abruptly locked eyes with the boy, who drew in a sharp breath. “You won’t get away. You know that, don’t you?”

Martin cast his eyes down and then swiftly back to the window again. In a barely audible voice, he asked; “Where are we going...?”

“My place.” Nicholai said and, when Martin opened his mouth to protest, added; “Your 24 hours doesn’t start until tomorrow.”

Nicholai was glad that that was enough to settle them back into silence for the final duration of the ride and it wasn’t until he was pulling up into the dark driveway that the boy began to show visible signs of discomfort again. Fidgeting, fleeting glances. Nicholai turned off the ignition and stepped out his vehicle. He strode to the passenger side and opened the door, ushering out his reluctant companion. 

Once stood upright with the car door slamming behind him, Martin’s eyes cast down the driveway and towards the quiet streets lit dimly by the occasional streetlight. Nicholai felt an irritating itch deep inside him when he did it, a dark suspicion that the kid would either make a run for it or yell, despite how obedient he had otherwise been. The feeling made him snatch one of his slim wrists in a tight grasp that made the youth gasp and wince. 

“ _Stop_ -" Martin muttered, his voice rushed and panicked as Nicholai placed another hand on his lower back, guiding him briskly up the path. The house was only small and simple, a temporary living space for him until his presence was more beneficial elsewhere. The neighbourhood was relatively quiet, albeit a few cases of gang activity and drug dealings in the past. He kept a firm hold on Martin until he had unlocked the door and gave him an encouraging shove inside. 

Martin hurried away from his reach as soon as Nicholai released him to lock the tall and sturdy door behind them. By the time Nicholai had finished, Martin had cowered against the opposite wall in the hallway, observing nervously. It jarred Martin’s entire demeanour when Nicholai passed him in the small space, walking purposefully towards the mounted landline phone further at the rear of the corridor. 

A grunt escaped as he tore the cord from the doorframe. He then surveyed the boy who was now timidly inspecting his surroundings; the dark peeling walls and the simplistic furniture and decor with few items of sentimental value. 

The day had accumulated him quite a thirst and Nicholai sighed, finally relaxing and settling. He wandered to his nearby kitchen and tugged open the fridge, popping the tab of a cold soda and tipping the contents down his throat. The caffeinated fizz sent a pleasant tingle through his body and when he had finished knocking his head back, he saw Martin had curiously followed him into the kitchen doorway. 

“You live here...?”

Nicholai brushed his hand over his mouth and reached for another can. He swiftly tossed it in Martin’s direction sending the teen's hands into a flurry as he attempted to catch it. The can dropped loudly on the floor before rolling around his feet. Nicholai chuckled, “For now, yes.”

Martin had fished the can off of the floor and into his grasp, picking loosely at the tab. His voice was quaint and small as he asked, anxiously; “Where am I going to slee— _Uah_! Ah!”

The surge of fizzy fluid spurted out of the can and into the air, briefly splashing Martin’s face before he thrust it away at arms length to dodge his body out of the rest of the flow. Nicholai couldn’t contain the bark of laughter that escaped him from watching the escapade play out. Martin was rubbing the liquid from his eyes and nose, stammering; “Sorry, I-I'll clean it up.”

The tread of his boots towards him were loud against the tiles and Martin almost shrunk backwards in response. “Oh yeah? What are you going to clean it with?” 

After he had blinked the sting from his eyes, Martin clasped at the worn black tea towel that was draped over the kitchen counter. Before he could get a word out, Nicholai firmly seized hold of the other end.

“Who gave you permission to use this?” Nicholai asked. He couldn’t help but tease and push the boundaries of the youth, forcibly having him dwell out of his comfort zone. The newfound proximity between the two had Martin squirming, stammering over a confused, incomplete answer. His eyes were bouncing with an increasing panic between the towel and his aggressor. 

“I-I was gonna' use-"

“No,” Nicholai uttered, snatching the towel away. Martin simply watched him, taken aback as he continued; “I think using your tongue would be sufficient punishment for dirtying my home, hm?”

Nicholai basked in the gloriousness of the way the boy’s body stood petrified, pale eyes wide with fright and bewilderment. He let the silence swell between them just to relish his reactions a moment longer, before he bellowed another, heartier laugh. He pat Martin firmly on the shoulder, making him flinch habitually.

“Relax, kid.” he said, dropping the towel onto the spillage and stepping over it and into the corridor, leaving Martin at a loss in his wake. “Let me show you to the couch."

* * *

Sleep was tough to come by when there was a complete stranger inhabiting his living space. Not because of the potential threat, no. He told himself that, yet couldn’t seem to rid the chilling image of a determined researcher’s face from his mind whenever he tried to force his eyes closed. It made him feel too hot, restless and hardly comfortable as he tossed onto his side and back again in his bedsheets. The bed was a double and even that seemed like not enough space to find comfort. He only wore a pair of tracksuit bottoms, yet the material felt irritable and cramped against his skin beneath the duvet. His eyes trained on the slightly ajar door a short few feet from him for, behind it, the subject was residing on his couch in his study at the end of the hallway. Whatever feelings of uncertainty or anxiety he was endowed with was likely only a fraction of what he’d imagine Martin felt in comparison. The poor kid didn’t even feel comfortable undressing or settling into his resting place until Nicholai had completely left him for the night. He could hardly blame him. Nicholai probably wasn’t his most trustworthy figurehead right now... 

He wasn’t sure just how long he had been laying in silence, his attention single channelled onto the gap into the hallway. An hour, perhaps more? He had hardly expected the other inhabitant to muster up any courage to make a peep, let alone move from where his captor had left him. 

Yet, sure enough, Nicholai heard the ever so slight rustle of cushions, the squeak of a wooden floorboard. The boy was clearly trying to be discreet as the vague sounds most certainly wouldn’t have roused him from his sleep. That is, if he wasn’t already listening for it.

Nicholai did not sit up immediately. The small house was secure enough that he knew better than to feel alarmed. The doors were locked, keys stored safely in the pocket of his jacket which hung in the closet beside him. All windows were sealed firmly shut unless jarred with enough force, which would be loud and risky. The precious blocker serum, and potential antidote if not administered appropriately, were in their ziplocked bag and tucked under his bed. 

So he waited. He waited and he listened. 

The gentle patter of feet wondered from his study momentarily before a dim light shun through his door from the bathroom. Nicholai relaxed the muscles he hadn’t realised had tensed against the mattress. There was an absence of any further sound and Nicholai began to grow suspicious again. This only escalated when his ears pricked up the faintest slide of fingers down the banister of his stairs.

Nicholai sat up abruptly and rubbed firmly at the sleep that was gathering at the corners of his eyes. He mumbled curses to himself as he sleepily got to his feet. The cold sent goosebumps littering over his skin and he crossed his thick arms over his bare chest. He felt no need to haste himself as he sluggishly moved to the hallway, stretching his restless limbs and listening atop the stairs to where the boy had scampered off to. 

His smartwatch buzzed to life and sent a vibration that was discreet, but still jarred Nicholai into more of an awake state. He peered at the small screen that lit up with a warning message reading in block letters; **TAMPERING DETECTED.**

Years of experience in the business made stealth almost second nature to Nicholai and he had descended the staircase and approached the dark kitchen quickly and quietly. The need to take anyone by surprise was made redundant when he saw the boy’s back was turned to him as he hunched over his workings, using only the light of the fridge to navigate the device that bound him. The meek silhouette was graced in nothing but a pair of boxers that were a size or two too big for him.

Nicholai’s watch buzzed against his wrist again and Nicholai flipped the light switch nonchalantly, flooding the kitchen with a sudden blinding fluorescent glow. Martin gasped and snapped his head around, his dishevelled curls bouncing wildly around his face. Various household items were sent flying amidst his panic; a fork and something Nicholai only barely made out to be a toothpick. 

“What are you doing?”

Nicholai hardly felt the need to add threat to his words since he had obviously caught the boy in a very vulnerable situation already. Besides, the tiredness that laced into his voice deceived any trickery. However, Martin’s face was ridden with panic regardless, his startled frame pressed back against the counter behind him. 

“I-I was going to the bathroom.”

Nicholai blinked at him, pointedly. “ _Really_...? Looks like you’re a _little_ lost.”

Nicholai evaluated him, tried to calculate whatever move he could make but the boy was simply frozen like a startled rabbit. So Nicholai stepped further into the kitchen, which was enough of a push to send Martin’s hands flurrying into the open drawer of cutlery and thrusting a silver bread knife into the air between them. 

“ **Don’t...!** Please don’t.”

Nicholai glared at him, at the knife in his trembling hands. “What are you going to do with that?”

He could see the inner conflict dancing in Martin’s glassy eyes, watched as a lip quivered before the weapon was discarded loudly onto the tiles. In a flash, Martin had darted towards him and into the hallway, his shoulder colliding with the doorframe in an effort to pass him. Nicholai made no move to stop him, and instead just raised the smartwatch to eye level, navigating the options properly for the first time. 

The scream that followed only sounded by the foot of the stairs a mere few paces from him. Nicholai was inwardly glad the next house on the street was sufficiently separated from his own. He sighed as he calmly closed in on where Martin’s body had crumbled at the first step, arms clinging desperately at the banister. He let the boy’s cries resound a moment longer before stopping the voltage, his imposing figure towering over him. 

“What were you _thinking_?” he said, “ _Where_ were you going to go?”

When there was no response, he cupped Martin’s face, raising him up from the floorboards. His fingers grew wet with the tears that were sweeping over them. Frail hands were fumbling with the legs of his tracksuit trousers, reluctant to resist and potentially aggravate the situation further. 

“I can’t trust you at all. You couldn’t just stay in your room, could you?” Nicholai frowned. Then, a malicious smile began to pull at his lips. “Did you want someone to share a bed with _that_ badly?” 

Renewed vigour filled Martin’s limbs as he pried himself from his grasp. He clampered back up the stairs a step or two before Nicholai pushed his thin frame into the banister, trapping him there with his larger, stronger body. Martin struggled as Nicholai pinned his arms against his lower back, subduing any further attempts of escape. 

With eventuality, the struggles lessened to a dull squirm and it seemed as though things were beginning to calm again. Then, a dawning realisation of Martin’s predicament swept over him; the boy was almost naked and bent over the tall banister of the stairs. Undeniably, the motion of Martin’s struggling between their tightly knitted bodies was making a firm erection press against the minimal fabric of clothing separating them. Martin must have felt the sharp poke against the plump flesh of his ass cheek because his movements then froze completely. 

Nicholai rolled his hips out of mere habit as he pondered the morality and consequence of whatever actions he chose to follow. Martin’s muscles below him were tensed, but otherwise flaccid and void of any further means of resistance. It was as though he had completely succumbed to the inevitability of his end through familiarity and was already surrendering himself to it.

Nicholai ground himself against the meat below once more, relishing the pleasant throb that pulsed through his flesh. His voice was heavy with tiredness and lust when he whispered the words; “You like that?”

The body under him was still, albeit the heavy pant that heaved his upper body. The heat that had swept over him made Nicholai's fingers sting where he was clenching the teen’s arms so tightly, and he quickly adjusted his grip. A small, muffled wince escaped Martin’s pursed lips and the red marks already blooming over his arms sent a brief wave of something unpleasant through Nicholai. Shame? Guilt? It wasn’t like it was the first time and Nicholai had certainly put him through far worse ordeals. 

And yet, Nicholai released him contrary to the ache against the waistband of his now too tight trousers. Martin sighed a loud exhale where he had been holding his breath as he relaxed over the banister, still somewhat precautious as he sheepishly peered over his shoulder. Nicholai wore an impassive expression. God forbid the boy read any degree of vulnerability or mercy from him, or think as though he somehow managed to get the upper hand from this. Nicholai ascended the stairs back towards his bedroom, feeling a pair of nervous and uncertain eyes on his back the whole way. When he reached the doorway, he sloppily held the door open, beckoning his companion. 

When Martin hesitated, Nicholai sleepily barked; “Hurry up, it’s cold.” 

A murmur of something too quiet in response and then Martin gained the stairs too, eyes making quick work surveying the new surroundings of his bedroom. Nicholai closed the door behind them, could still feel the tension and distrust in the air radiating from the boy. He had already anticipated the reaction he received when he fished a pair of handcuffs from a barely touched box in the back corner of his room. 

“No, _no_. I’m **not** wearing that. Don’t— _ah!_ ” 

Nicholai was already hauling Martin by the elbow towards the large bed, forcing him into a laying position. The springs in the bed squeaked loudly beneath them. There was no way he could compromise this, not when needing to keep such a close monitor on him. And most certainly not with various keys residing in this very room. When Martin’s resisting elevated and became frantic, a loose fist collided with Nicholai’s jaw, eliminating all of Nicholai’s remaining patience in an instant. 

“ **Enough!** ”

Nicholai wasn’t sure if it was the sudden angry bellow or the squeezing hand on Martin’s slender neck that made Martin gasp and freeze beneath him. His adam’s apple bounced against where it was being crushed against his palm. 

“You’ve left me _no_ choice. I have no other options here. Now you either **shut** up and do as you’re told or I swear to God I’ll make you regret it.”

His face was close enough to Martin’s that his shallow breathing quickly dried the wetness of Martin’s wide, frightened eyes, forcing him to blink all at once in a frenzy. His body was limp and compliant when Nicholai finally released him once more.

“Lift your arms up.” 

Martin moved his hands to the headboard obediently and only began to murmur protests when Nicholai clasped the first handcuff next to the bands around his wrists. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Nicholai muttered in response and this seemed enough to render Martin silent as he wound the second cuff to his other arm, locking him in place. 

Nicholai sighed in relief and tiredness as he sat back and assessed his work. The body below was fully bound, his elevated arms leaving his pale, hairless chest with nothing to hide. Martin’s eyes bore holes into him, still trying to appear determined and strong, despite the circumstances being stacked against him. Nicholai’s gaze descended down his neck. As a result of his full exposure, the jaggered red scarring against the pasty skin of his breastbone was stark and prominent. A calloused fingertip crept up to where the **N** began, loosely tracing the lettering and making Martin gasp sharply. He then trailed the long path downward absentmindedly, watching Martin’s stomach sink in as the almost ticklish sensation cascaded there. 

The trail stopped abruptly when it bumped into where Martin’s hip bone jutted out against his tummy. It lingered there while Martin’s hips rolled unconsciously into the touch, before Nicholai removed it entirely. 

The hips trembled and then seemed to relax somewhat, letting his body finally sink into the mattress. Nicholai followed suit, collapsing in a heap beside him. He sighed and rubbed his temples. Something about playing with the boy make him undeniably hard, but exhaustion was wrapping around his core and making his eyelids heavy. Plus, he couldn’t shake the thought that, if he did follow through with taking the boy, he’d somehow regret it in the morning if it didn’t abide by Alex's ‘mission’. 

Nicholai raised the duvet, encasing their bodies in the warmth beneath it. He knew Martin wouldn’t take his eyes off him in the short time it took for sleep to take him, and he didn’t seem to find it in himself to care since the rewarding embrace of sleep was bliss. 

* * *

Nicholai was the first to stir, his body clock calibrated to wake as soon as the rays of sunlight shun through his curtains at 7am. He grumbled and instinctively glanced beside him, almost as though there was a slight possibility the boy might not still be there. However, alas, the slumbering figure lay bound with the duvet covering just over his mid-waist. Bruising and scratches, both old and new, littered over his torso. His loose black curls, which had been knocked around in his sleep, framed his young face. A face that was at peace, completely content with the obliviousness of sleep.

Nicholai stared a moment longer. Eyelids twitched from the fleeting of eyes beneath them showing that Martin was dreaming deeply. Nicholai decided not to wake him. He hauled himself off of his side of the bed, being careful not to jar the mattress too much on his way up. He strode to the bathroom and a stifled yawn made him thrust his fists into the air in an accentuated stretch that rekindled life back into his limbs. 

It wasn’t until he had washed his face and was squirting toothpaste onto his toothbrush that he heard a muffled, terrified yelp from the other room, causing him to return briskly to the bedroom. 

Martin lay still under the duvet but his eyes were wide and confused, his body trembling. When his searching gaze fixed onto Nicholai in the doorway, he took a steadying breath, as though beginning to realise where he was. 

“Nightmares?” Nicholai asked, nonchalantly, before propping his toothbrush in his mouth and speaking around it; “Well, I guess you’ve just woke up into a new one.”

Martin said nothing, but his eyebrows furrowed inwards into a frown and he began to squirm uncomfortably in his restraints. Nicholai approached him, taking the small key from his bedside and leaning over him towards his bindings. The keyholes were small and finicky, and the angle of how the boy’s wrists were squashed over the headboard made it awkward to undo them right away. The length of time in such close proximity with his body looming over him was clearly treacherous for Martin, and he could feel him cowering into the sheets, his face turned from him. 

After a muttered cuss in frustration around his toothbrush, Nicholai finally detached the cuffs and the metal clattered somewhere behind the bed. It wasn’t until he stood fully upright again that Martin slowly moved himself into a sitting position, massaging the red, irritated skin of his thin wrists. 

“So today is all you,” Nicholai said, brushing his teeth between his words, “What do you want to do?”

Martin pulled sheepishly at the duvet until it concealed a larger portion of his body. “My clothes are in the other room. I want something to wear now.” 

Nicholai glanced behind him and pulled his black, checkered dressing gown from the clothes hook on the back of the door. As soon as it was thrown on the bed, Martin was fumbling his narrow arms into it and covering himself up. Nicholai found it mildly comical, but couldn’t blame him since he hadn’t exactly been respecting his dignity much the past night, let alone the times before that.

“Come get cleaned up.” Nicholai said, nodding towards the bathroom. Martin obliged and stretched to his feet. The size of Nicholai’s dressing gown swallowed the boy whole, but Nicholai couldn’t deny he looked very snug encased in the mass of fleecy fabric. He could hear his patter of feet trailing after him as he fished around his bathroom cupboard for a spare toothbrush. He wasn’t too sure whether the one he had found had been used by women he had had spend the night in the past, but didn’t pay much mind to it as he smothered it with toothpaste. 

Martin’s hands were hesitant when he took it from him and, when he was close enough, Nicholai could just barely catch the musty combined scent of his youthful body merging with Nicholai’s house coat. He wondered if his smell would remain even when he took the gown off - when he would have returned to the facility and would never leave again. 

Nicholai nodded half heartedly when Martin murmured a tired ‘thank you’ , and finished up his own brushing by spitting out his toothpaste. As he cleaned his brush under the sink, he said; “I know a good breakfast place. You hungry?”

Martin’s eyes glanced at him, somewhat surprised. Was Nicholai’s kindness really so foreign? Martin paused between cleaning his teeth to reply, hesitantly; “Um, yes.”

“Well, alright then.” Nicholai said, drying his hands on a nearby towel, “ Morning plans scheduled.”


End file.
